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“Your body is not a temple.
Your body is the house you grew up in.
How dare you try to burn it to the ground.
You are bigger than this.
You are bigger
than this.”
―
Your body is the house you grew up in.
How dare you try to burn it to the ground.
You are bigger than this.
You are bigger
than this.”
―
“My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.”
―
―
“I loved you head over handles
like my first bicycle accident —
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.”
―
like my first bicycle accident —
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.”
―
“My sister told me a soul mate is not the person
who makes you the happiest but the one who
makes you feel the most, who conducts your heart
to bang the loudest, who can drag you giggling
with forgiveness from the cellar they locked you in.
It has always been you.
-Love, Forgive Me”
―
who makes you the happiest but the one who
makes you feel the most, who conducts your heart
to bang the loudest, who can drag you giggling
with forgiveness from the cellar they locked you in.
It has always been you.
-Love, Forgive Me”
―
“Writing a list of ways I could be better
and writing a suicide note
are the same thing”
―
and writing a suicide note
are the same thing”
―
“You are a souvenir shop, where he goes to remember how much people miss him when he is gone.”
―
―
“You wonder why I don’t
answer your 3 a.m. phone calls.
When you say “I miss you”,
I begin to undress myself out of habit.”
―
answer your 3 a.m. phone calls.
When you say “I miss you”,
I begin to undress myself out of habit.”
―
“Your body is the house you grew up in. How dare you try to burn it to the ground.”
―
―
“Today Means Amen
Dear you, whoever you are, however you got here,
this is exactly where you are supposed to be.
This moment has waited its whole life for you.
This moment is your lover and you are a soldier.
Come home, baby, it's over. You don't need
to suffer anymore. Dear you, this moment
is your surprise party. You are both hiding
in the dark and walking through the door.
This moment is a hallelujah. This moment
is your permission slip to finally open that love
letter you've been hiding from yourself,
the one you wrote when you were little
when you still danced like a sparkler at dusk.
Do you remember the moment you realized
they were watching? When you became
ashamed of how much light you were holding?
When you first learned how to unlove yourself?
Dear you, the word today means amen
in every language. Today, we made it. Today,
I'm going to love you. Today, I'm going
to love myself. Today, the boxcutter will rust
in the garbage. The noose will forget
how to hold you, today, today--
Dear you, and I have always meant you,
nothing would be the same if you
did not exist. You, whose voice is someone's
favorite voice, someone's favorite face
to wake up to. Nothing would be the same
if you did not exist. You, the teacher,
the starter's gun, the lantern in the night
who offers not a way home, but the courage
to travel farther into the dark. You, the lover,
who worships the taste of her body, who is
the largest tree ring in his heart, who does not
let fear ration your love. You, the friend,
the sacred chorus of how can I help.
You, who have felt more numb than holy,
more cracked than mosaic. Who have known
the tiles of a bathroom by heart, who have
forgotten what makes you worth it.
You, the forgiven, the forgiver, who belongs
right here in this moment. You, this clump
of cells, this happy explosion that happened
to start breathing, and by the grace of whatever
is up there, you got here. You made it
this whole way: through the nights
that swallowed you whole, the mornings
that arrived in pieces. The scabs, the gravel,
the doubt, the hurt, the hurt, the hurt
is over. Today, you made it. You made it.
You made it here.”
― Today Means Amen
Dear you, whoever you are, however you got here,
this is exactly where you are supposed to be.
This moment has waited its whole life for you.
This moment is your lover and you are a soldier.
Come home, baby, it's over. You don't need
to suffer anymore. Dear you, this moment
is your surprise party. You are both hiding
in the dark and walking through the door.
This moment is a hallelujah. This moment
is your permission slip to finally open that love
letter you've been hiding from yourself,
the one you wrote when you were little
when you still danced like a sparkler at dusk.
Do you remember the moment you realized
they were watching? When you became
ashamed of how much light you were holding?
When you first learned how to unlove yourself?
Dear you, the word today means amen
in every language. Today, we made it. Today,
I'm going to love you. Today, I'm going
to love myself. Today, the boxcutter will rust
in the garbage. The noose will forget
how to hold you, today, today--
Dear you, and I have always meant you,
nothing would be the same if you
did not exist. You, whose voice is someone's
favorite voice, someone's favorite face
to wake up to. Nothing would be the same
if you did not exist. You, the teacher,
the starter's gun, the lantern in the night
who offers not a way home, but the courage
to travel farther into the dark. You, the lover,
who worships the taste of her body, who is
the largest tree ring in his heart, who does not
let fear ration your love. You, the friend,
the sacred chorus of how can I help.
You, who have felt more numb than holy,
more cracked than mosaic. Who have known
the tiles of a bathroom by heart, who have
forgotten what makes you worth it.
You, the forgiven, the forgiver, who belongs
right here in this moment. You, this clump
of cells, this happy explosion that happened
to start breathing, and by the grace of whatever
is up there, you got here. You made it
this whole way: through the nights
that swallowed you whole, the mornings
that arrived in pieces. The scabs, the gravel,
the doubt, the hurt, the hurt, the hurt
is over. Today, you made it. You made it.
You made it here.”
― Today Means Amen
“When he sleeps,
the snoring does not bother me:
the rhythmic growl, gravel shoved
across the sidewalk of his throat.
It is the grasping, desperate way
in which he takes in air—his gulping lungs
as if every dream is filled with water
and he is trying to inflate
the life jacket under his skin.
I babble in my sleep. He believes
I am trying to tell him how my heart works,
says he will translate the manual one day.
I want to ask him: am I the ocean?
Are you drowning in everything
I don’t say when I’m awake?”
—Heart Apnea”
― The Bones Below
the snoring does not bother me:
the rhythmic growl, gravel shoved
across the sidewalk of his throat.
It is the grasping, desperate way
in which he takes in air—his gulping lungs
as if every dream is filled with water
and he is trying to inflate
the life jacket under his skin.
I babble in my sleep. He believes
I am trying to tell him how my heart works,
says he will translate the manual one day.
I want to ask him: am I the ocean?
Are you drowning in everything
I don’t say when I’m awake?”
—Heart Apnea”
― The Bones Below
“I’ve hoarded
your name in my mouth for months. My throat
is a beehive pitched in the river. Look!
Look how long this love can hold its breath.”
― Today Means Amen
your name in my mouth for months. My throat
is a beehive pitched in the river. Look!
Look how long this love can hold its breath.”
― Today Means Amen
“I have calculated the total number of hours
we spend sleeping beside each other in a week
and I wanted to tell you it could be considered
a full-time job. We could be eligible for healthcare
benefits, could probably even pay for a mortgage
by now. I remind myself of this, in daylight, when
I miss you and cannot reach across the bed
for the comforting filling and refilling
of your chest. Such a strange affair
we are having on each other; these hours
that I have not lost but do not remember.
This cannot be the best of love: to drool
on someone’s collarbone or inhale an elbow to
the jaw or be woken by the most ungraceful sounds
of the body. But what is it if not the softening
of grips? A letting go of. Your heart
finally slowly that stubborn, lonely march.”
―
we spend sleeping beside each other in a week
and I wanted to tell you it could be considered
a full-time job. We could be eligible for healthcare
benefits, could probably even pay for a mortgage
by now. I remind myself of this, in daylight, when
I miss you and cannot reach across the bed
for the comforting filling and refilling
of your chest. Such a strange affair
we are having on each other; these hours
that I have not lost but do not remember.
This cannot be the best of love: to drool
on someone’s collarbone or inhale an elbow to
the jaw or be woken by the most ungraceful sounds
of the body. But what is it if not the softening
of grips? A letting go of. Your heart
finally slowly that stubborn, lonely march.”
―
“When I feel myself falling out of love with you,
I turn the record of your laughter over, reposition the needle.
I dust the dirty living room of your affection.
-Love, Forgive Me”
―
I turn the record of your laughter over, reposition the needle.
I dust the dirty living room of your affection.
-Love, Forgive Me”
―
“Mantra to Overcome Depression
Vitamin D. Sunlight. Go
outside. Get a good night
of sleep. Not too good.
Not shades drawn forever
good. Not like you used to.
Open the windows.
Buy more houseplants.
Breathe. Meditate. One day,
you will no longer be
afraid of being alone
with your thoughts.
Exercise. Actually exercise
instead of just Googling it.
Eat well. Cook for yourself.
Organize your closet, the
garage. Drink plenty of
water and repeat after me:
I am not a problem
to be solved. Repeat after me:
I am worthy I am worthy
I am neither the mistake nor
the punishment. Forget to take
vitamins. Let the houseplant die.
Eat spoonfuls of peanut butter.
Shave your head. Forget
this poem. It doesn't matter.
There is no wrong way
to remember the grace of your
own body; no choice
that can unmake itself.
There is only now, here
look: you are already
forgiven.”
― Today Means Amen
Vitamin D. Sunlight. Go
outside. Get a good night
of sleep. Not too good.
Not shades drawn forever
good. Not like you used to.
Open the windows.
Buy more houseplants.
Breathe. Meditate. One day,
you will no longer be
afraid of being alone
with your thoughts.
Exercise. Actually exercise
instead of just Googling it.
Eat well. Cook for yourself.
Organize your closet, the
garage. Drink plenty of
water and repeat after me:
I am not a problem
to be solved. Repeat after me:
I am worthy I am worthy
I am neither the mistake nor
the punishment. Forget to take
vitamins. Let the houseplant die.
Eat spoonfuls of peanut butter.
Shave your head. Forget
this poem. It doesn't matter.
There is no wrong way
to remember the grace of your
own body; no choice
that can unmake itself.
There is only now, here
look: you are already
forgiven.”
― Today Means Amen
“Because suffering is the bible she was sworn in on. Because self-doubt was the ferry she took to get here and yes, it did get her here, but she never knew she could swim.”
― New Shoes On A Dead Horse
― New Shoes On A Dead Horse
“I loved you head over handles
like my first bicycle accident—
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.
-Cycle of Abuse”
―
like my first bicycle accident—
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.
-Cycle of Abuse”
―
“tonight
in yoga, I realized for the first time
that breathing is not the process of being filled
and emptied: breathing is the act
of actually making love to the whole world”
― Today Means Amen
in yoga, I realized for the first time
that breathing is not the process of being filled
and emptied: breathing is the act
of actually making love to the whole world”
― Today Means Amen
“We only carry what we think we need,”
― New Shoes On A Dead Horse
― New Shoes On A Dead Horse
“So here’s to our blistered feet. Here’s to my whimpering knees, your weary shoulders. Here is the foreclosure of my shame and here is our brokenness. Look at us being so damn human: yes, it happened, yes, it was not our most graceful unfolding, and yes, we were both so present the whole time.”
―
―
“I am trying to teach poetry in school districts
that only know how to starve. I am trying
to show my students, who don't know
how to spell, how to write their lives
in anything but blood. I am trying to learn
how to give and foster forgiveness in a body
that wants none of it.”
― Today Means Amen
that only know how to starve. I am trying
to show my students, who don't know
how to spell, how to write their lives
in anything but blood. I am trying to learn
how to give and foster forgiveness in a body
that wants none of it.”
― Today Means Amen
“Tonight in Yoga
I realized I have been afraid of meditation
my whole life, which is to say,
I have been afraid of myself my whole life”
― Today Means Amen
I realized I have been afraid of meditation
my whole life, which is to say,
I have been afraid of myself my whole life”
― Today Means Amen
“God Bless Your Fingers
Ten sugar-dipped strawberries. Ten humming sailors. Let the church say amen. Let the chapel doors open and open again. Ten gentle explorers who found my body buried inside itself. Who can see in the dark. Who can baptize me from across the continent. Let the church of my legs say bless. Let the church of my breasts say oh god. You have found the presents I hid from you. You have grown in me a basin I can never fill. Ten wise men. Ten pilgrimages across my stomach. Ten lit candles. Ten holy ghosts. I am a séance. I am a séance.”
― Today Means Amen
Ten sugar-dipped strawberries. Ten humming sailors. Let the church say amen. Let the chapel doors open and open again. Ten gentle explorers who found my body buried inside itself. Who can see in the dark. Who can baptize me from across the continent. Let the church of my legs say bless. Let the church of my breasts say oh god. You have found the presents I hid from you. You have grown in me a basin I can never fill. Ten wise men. Ten pilgrimages across my stomach. Ten lit candles. Ten holy ghosts. I am a séance. I am a séance.”
― Today Means Amen
“the person who did this to you is broken. Not you.
The person who did this to you is out there,
choking on the glass of his chest.
It is a windshield
and his heartbeat is a baseball bat:
regret this, regret this.
Nothing was stolen from you.
Your body is not a hand-me-down.
There is nothing that sits inside you holding your worth,
no locket that can be seen or touched,
fucked from your stomach to be left on concrete.”
― The Bones Below
The person who did this to you is out there,
choking on the glass of his chest.
It is a windshield
and his heartbeat is a baseball bat:
regret this, regret this.
Nothing was stolen from you.
Your body is not a hand-me-down.
There is nothing that sits inside you holding your worth,
no locket that can be seen or touched,
fucked from your stomach to be left on concrete.”
― The Bones Below
“ODE TO CARBONATION you taste like what I imagine swallowing radio wires feels like: all sparks and pop music in my throat.”
― The Bones Below: Poems by Sierra Demulder
― The Bones Below: Poems by Sierra Demulder
“It Rained for Two Days Straight
Yesterday, Ryan told me his grandfather was admitted to the hospital. It was raining the way it rains in the movies, like whoever does the dishes left the faucet running, heavy drops polishing everything in the city dark. We ran from one drooling awning to the next, quicker, then slower, quicker, slower. If one had watched from the sky, our bodies would have looked like two small needles being pulsed forward by some invisible machine, stitching the streets together. Today, Patric was left by a girl he did not love but did not not love. He told me it was impossible to imagine himself both alone and whole. It was still raining--the sky's silly metaphor for sadness, untimely, startling, the way it makes the whole world more honest. Death is like this, too. Heartache, also. The sudden absence of what was there but now not. I touched Patrick's shoulder, attempting to pass my human to his. I sent Ryan a poem. I cannot do more than this art of bearing witness, to be both the bucket and the mirror, to say, yes, you are here but I am here also, to say you won't be here forever, or to say nothing and just walk beside each other in the rain.”
― Today Means Amen
Yesterday, Ryan told me his grandfather was admitted to the hospital. It was raining the way it rains in the movies, like whoever does the dishes left the faucet running, heavy drops polishing everything in the city dark. We ran from one drooling awning to the next, quicker, then slower, quicker, slower. If one had watched from the sky, our bodies would have looked like two small needles being pulsed forward by some invisible machine, stitching the streets together. Today, Patric was left by a girl he did not love but did not not love. He told me it was impossible to imagine himself both alone and whole. It was still raining--the sky's silly metaphor for sadness, untimely, startling, the way it makes the whole world more honest. Death is like this, too. Heartache, also. The sudden absence of what was there but now not. I touched Patrick's shoulder, attempting to pass my human to his. I sent Ryan a poem. I cannot do more than this art of bearing witness, to be both the bucket and the mirror, to say, yes, you are here but I am here also, to say you won't be here forever, or to say nothing and just walk beside each other in the rain.”
― Today Means Amen
“Look at us being so damn human”
― We Slept Here
― We Slept Here
“Change, it moves like a bullet and you already pulled the trigger.”
― Today Means Amen
― Today Means Amen
“Livia, your words are weapons; your voice
is the strength it takes to wield them.
Better yet, let's free ourselves of violence
as you have only ever been a valiant
champion of tenderness. Livia, your words
are lightening bugs. Your voice is the darkness
that allows them to glow. Please know
every sound you have ever made and will
ever make will always lead to grace.”
― Today Means Amen
is the strength it takes to wield them.
Better yet, let's free ourselves of violence
as you have only ever been a valiant
champion of tenderness. Livia, your words
are lightening bugs. Your voice is the darkness
that allows them to glow. Please know
every sound you have ever made and will
ever make will always lead to grace.”
― Today Means Amen
“I dream of you more often than I don't.”
―
―
