25/30: Arguments: Physical
Muscle to muscle—it never occurred to me
To feel small when my blood was up,
and it was up, and, like a cat,
I would’ve taken on a bear without
thinking ahead to consequences
or wondering about my victory.
Muscle to muscle, squaring off
to a man more than twice my size
as he threatened, tried to intimidate.
In my body, somewhere, lives
the little girl, gritting her teeth and
saying “It’s not fair” as she received
more and more strikes from the flat
of her father’s hand.
That little girl, too small to escape
her father’s grasp, now, tired,
angry, and also scared, squares off
with all the repressed rage of years
and says, “Get out before I put you out.”
And the man, visibility startled, backs away.
Goes to light a cigarette, and
this argument, won with body language,
leaves me sick with adrenaline
and the rage I’ve allowed to rush
and boil in my blood.
26/30: Heavy Heart
Heavy heart weighing me down
pressing the air from my lungs.
I try to carry it alone,
wishing I felt able, yet
longing to ask you to
hold me and take some
of the weight of my heart
with the warmth of your embrace.
Heavy heart weighing me down
keeping me under the covers
for so many hours after
My alarm sounds.
I wish I could ask you
to join me, just to share space
just to make the heavy hours
a little easier, a little
less lonely and slow.
27/30: Playing Games
I like games when the rulebook is written
when the guidelines are clear
when I know the parameters
and how to win or lose.
I like games I can master
spend hours in first-person shooters
or fighting games, or MarioKart
and when my brothers friends came over
no one could triumph over me.
I like games that inspire friendly
competition though I do get a
little less than friendly when
competition is a factor.
I like games when I know
I’m playing them, but yet
when I’m unaware a game is afoot
I just feel lost, deceived, and
can’t quite keep up.
Playing games is fun, when
game boards are involved,
but my heart isn’t a token
and my love isn’t to be rolled
with the dice, cast off in case
something better comes along.
28/30: Swimming Pools
Chlorine scent in the air
The moment I enter a building
I know the pool is there
And i can see the clear
Crystalline blue of the water
Imagine my hands cutting
Through, my legs kicking,
Creating a light splash.
I smell chlorine, 20 years
later, and still I’m back
still I’m there, sometimes,
longing for the simpler times
when all my days were spent
at swimming pools.
Ink and Vein 