Tabitha Vohn's Blog - Posts Tagged "transition"

There's a reason
I took to you
You were the girl
crouch-kneed
in the corner
I was the ghost
on the moor
You arranged dolls
gym class popularity
order on the bathroom
floor I loved him
for what I saw
We both clung
to silence as
to an absent father
sometimes pressed so
spirit bone deep we'd
feel the need to rattle
pots break glass scream
our voiceboxes hoarse
in starless storms where
he was nowhere to be found
You and I know the
Greek myth purgatory of
grieving the loss of the
living having failed him
already though the home
of his body was within reach
you knew the only thing
to do was hum lullabies
in salt-soaked clothing and
let your eyes swell shut
that surrender to the inevitable
the only two good choices
this false hope-held breath
or false pretense of healing
every lowering rock or
grey sky a mockingbird
every cave you let your
legs bend inward a
reminder
that if you let yourself
be honest about
how much you miss him
you'd let sulfur streams
surround you let the
roof fall snuff out that
impostor pinhole of light
and let the cave
swallow you.

I keep thinking
I’ll make something meaningful
out of this
a little beauty for ashes

I walked the Appalachian Trial
this past weekend
crossed your road
J asked
“Do you know where you are?”
Yes
I’m in the wrong May

I wanted to go back
to the one where you
pointed out the path
for us
said
“The Appalachian Trail
runs through there”

I wanted to walk until
that road veered into
broken asphalt and dirt

I wanted to find last year’s
May there I wanted to do
what I wanted to do
then
cotton wrap your skin
fold you into Home

But I couldn’t get across
that double line
fast enough
I could’ve walked til
my lungs gave out
I can’t outrun
this May
fast enough

Jaymes Young:
screw you!
Forget Pandora too
I’m tired out being
cut out of my skin
every time I hear you
and Big Jet Plane
I wanna set fire
to the laptop
and hug the speakers

I rediscovered
Tori Amos
and
myself
in her randomness
I wish I could
scrape such beauty
from my consciousness

Lyrical fusions
tethered to nothing
then she’ll drop that
minor note wrap
God’s fingers around
my throat
plead
There must be something
here

I’ll sit through five minutes
of Baker, Baker nonsense
for one moment of raw truth

I’ll hold my breath through
God knows how many months
of silence
for
one
luminous truth
one I still love you

even if it’s just
an echo
bouncing off
the canyon
last May
was shoved into.