New poem – i sing the body electric especially when my power’s out

Dedicated to my epilepsy

This is my body

I have weather veins

They are especially sensitive to dust storms and hurricanes

When i get nervous my teeth chatter like a wheelbarrow collecting rain

I am nervous when i talk

It is the storm in me

The doctor said some day i may not be able to walk it’s in my blood like the iron my grandmother tough as nails held herself together till the day she could no longer hold my nephew

We said our kneecaps are our prayer beds you can walk much further on your knees than you can on your feet

This is my heartbeat

Like yours it is a hatchett it can build a house or tear one down

My mouth is a fire escape the words coming out dont care that they are naked there is something burning in here and when it burns i hold my own shell to my ear and listen for the parade

When i was seven the man who played bagpipes wore a skirt he was from scotland i wanted to move there

Wanted my spine to be the spine of an unpublished book

My faith the first and last word on each page the day my ribcage became monkey bars for a girl hanging on my every word

They told me i was not allowed to love her

Tried to drag me by the throat to teach me i was not a boy

I had to unlearn their prison speak

Stop making wishes on the star on the sherrif’s chest

I started asking the sun about the big bang

The sun said – it hurts to become

I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue

I say bless your heart every chance i get so my family tree will know i have not yet left

You do not leave to arrive

I am learning this slowly

My hands are busy doing the wrong things

It will take a few more years for me to finally learn that flying isnt simply pushing away the ground

That safety isnt always safe

You can find one on every gun

I am aiming to do better

This is my body

My exhaustion pipe will never pass inspection

Untill my lungs learn how to breathe like a burning lamp everytime i get lost in the curtain of her hair

You can find me by the window following my past through a frantic trail of blood in the snow

The night i opened my veins the doctor who stitched me up asked me if i did it for attention

For the record if you’ve ever done anything for attention this poem is attention title it with your name

It will scour the city bridge every night you stand kicking at your shadow staring at the river

It does not want to find you doing anything but loving what you love

Love what you love

Say this is my body

It is no one’s but mine

This is my nervous system

My wanting blood

My half tamed addictions

My tongue tied up like a ball of christmas lights

If you ever put a star on the top of my tree make sure it is one that fell

Coz all these words are stories for the staircase to the top of my lungs

Where i sing it hurts

And the echo comes back

Alleluia to your weather veins

Alleluia to your ache

Alleuia to the fall

To the grace in every body

In every cell

Of us all.

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