What I was like when I came in

I liked the feeling of being knifed to pieces
and sent bleeding down a hill
like earth torn in torrential rains
racing through an innocent village

                                 I might have loved elephants but
                                 laughed when I escaped with a tusk

I liked watching you disappear
after I fucked you, like someone
pulled beneath the surface
of the ocean by a hungry shark

                                 I might have loved you but
                                 I was busy swimming away

I liked to think I was the blood
emptied from an innocent throat
but really I was the knife
left on the floor smiling silver teeth

                                 you should have known better than to sit
                                 on the stairs all night waiting to see if I’d stop breathing

I was a ghost slipping past you,
a sly hand brushing the back of your dress
as I escaped into the terror
of another sleepless night

                                 I believed in time warps
                                 I honestly didn’t think you’d notice I’d been gone

I defied god’s will for me and hid
in dark ugly places hoping
you wouldn’t see me
hoping you wouldn’t miss me

                                 I grew used to sleeping in my own urine
                                 and getting an aids test every 6 months

I believed my demons to be deities
giving me all the stars in the sky
all the universe
my own exploding orgasm

                                 I wasn’t measured
                                 in my response to impulse

there is no heart available
to the obsessive mind
that only craves more and more
and I craved more and more

                                 I awoke most mornings without
                                 the ability to love anything        or anyone


Photo by Jez Timms on Unsplash

Robert Brakeman

Robert Brakeman has been writing since high school and is now in his early fifties trying to pin down in poetic form many of the haunting stories about his family that has been relayed to him over the years. He currently lives in Connecticut with his wife and 2 kids in an unassuming house in a quiet neighborhood. They literally just pushed the final button to submit his son's first college application, so they'll see what becomes of the boy in the upcoming years. He spent his first night in college passed out under a jeep in a gravel driveway. He hopes his son will make better choices. His poetry is full of people who didn't.