let me tell you
what i've learned
about surviving:
1- bury your ancestors
in unmarked graves
twenty feet deep;
they're too heavy,
too real.
you can't take them with you
and you can't bear the weight
on your back.
2- burn every bridge
you've ever built
and warm yourself
among the flames.
3- put your family album
on a pyre
and when you hear your
older sister screaming
lit a cigarette
on her burning picture.
4- roll over your hometown
and turn it to rubble.
build fortresses
from the ashes of your high school.
5- leave everyone you've ever loved
and if you dare look back
break your own neck
and screw it stationary
so that the only direction
you can ever stare in
is forward.
6- if anyone knows your name
cut their tongue
and if anyone knows your face
gouge their eyes.
7- bite the hand that feeds you
and let the blood
drip drip drip
down your neck.
8- acquaint yourself with cold.
hold that ice closer than
all your ex lovers
and let it seep, seep, deep inside.
pollute yourself and
learn to love the taste of oil.
9- keep walking forward
and when the callouses and blisters
overtake your feet
then take a shot of whiskey
and cut them off.
10- never let them see you feel.
feeling is what people do
and people are weak.
don't be weak.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me in the Woods
Poetryassorted poetry inspired by nature, family and the life of a person who spends far too much time in her head. (sexuality, death and decay are alluded to or directly addressed in some of my poems. these poems are marked by "*" in the chapter title.) ...
