An Exquisite Corpse

This poem was written by taking one line from all of my finished poems (30 total) and placing them one right after the other...

When nothing goes right, go to sleep

I can hear the therapist telling me to go through all five senses

Collecting years and years on themselves

I was distracted from reality for a split second that turned into three months

Counting drum beats together

Leaves fall on my back

Books fall

Taking your dog for long walks outside

If I wake up early enough I get to witness mother nature's opening act for the day

I do an amends to my body

I acknowledge the breath of my loneliness, taste the longing of connection

I hope to be as wise as a Bonsai Tree looks

How I crave the change that I know is to come

Do not tell us to just close our eyes when something bad is happening

That memory that saved my life

That I no longer have to keep score on my body

I pray that I can beat my own record

Savoring every moment that her hand embraces mine while the other fondles a menthol, as she asks, “got a light?”

We were having our normal conversation spewing questions along the lines of,

“Why does life matter?”

“What’s the point?”

I smoke now as if it pays the bills

“If someone dies in Canada does that mean they die in real life?”

That would be the first of many times that I did not stand up for myself

Moving to America when I was six going on seven, I was wildly unprepared when it came to the topic of my origin

I like to think while she died in Canada, she has not died in me

I am grateful for them giving me a forest to grow in

Even if I do not agree at times, my life has been bombarded with loving people that remind me that it can be worth it

So when I tell you that I want to get clean make sure I say it three times...

When the leaves fall with the changing season it gives me comfort that I too, one day will be able to shed what I have outgrown

A sort of freedom knowing that in another life my body might only be covered in freckles

The last time I used Fentanyl the only magic was that I was still alive which was more than I thought could be possible.

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Some of the poems used were written as far back as 2016 while others were written a couple of months ago. This patchwork poem illustrates my voice as a poet, allowing me to reflect on what seems to be the constant themes in this developmental phase of my life.