Anamnesis

*Image found HERE

Anamnesis

Distilled inside second-hand china,
the cartilage remembers
the bruised body where the sparrows
built their hawthorn houses.
The bunker in which all disintegrated,
where I bled out a noon from my thighs,
gave birth to July, mourned with the marbled, white
statue, about the lack of daisies.
The hills I’ve climbed to try and reach the Moon,
but never the Sun.
A pair of amber eyes leaking
into rooms with thousand empty chairs,
the deep blue of a secret
hidden from razors, hidden from oneself,
admitted only to fluff stuffed companions
while Death was busy elsewhere.
The broom closet of Hades,
full of cogwheels spinning on empty,
burned plastic etching its smoke
into the threads of my clothes,
inevitably soiling my soul, for the good of it.
The remains of what was devoured,
in glass jars,
the belief in the world nothing more
than a whiff of a mad scientist’s mind
and chlorine for the stains.
The mouth twitched like the ground pregnant
with the laughter of a goddess,
innocence under the thundering storm;
an incision that stayed,
father, son, brother, friend,
latched into the softest, darkest corner
of the vertebrae,
a song that measures distances
of countries. Heads. Chess pieces. Hearts.
A lonely lark, whistling in the shadow
of the sleeping birch tree,
like I descend an inherited tea-spoon
into the adorned mud, and spin;
like I dispute with the mercy of the madrigal
of a starless night,
like bone dust of the wings I outgrown
crescending slowly
into the sea;
the nothing of me that loved me too well.

*For NaPoWriMo day 18, where the prompt was to travel back and recall the language of home. This was, so far, the hardest prompt for me to even think about. The language of my home has for decades been not quite nice (horrible), so thinking about this prompt brought back many ugly memories. This is why I decided to write a poem that commemorates all the places that felt like home while I was growing up (which was mostly internet cafes, the street, bookstores and the great, big outdoors!)

*I am aware crescending is not an actual verb. I wanted to combine crescendo and descending, and when I can’t find a word, I invent one 🙂