KEISHA-GAYE ANDERSON
Gyal
Listen. Before you believe
those acrid whispers funneling up
from the basement of your mind
hissing that you are unloved and unlovable,
a burden and insufferable,
roll your eyes back into time
and look for where the dead body is buried
Which sapling of you was hacked down
before reaching the sun
because you were too clear of a mirror?
Whose fear became an axe
and hacked you to pieces
before you could fully unfurl?
Our composted selves
release a noxious fog
bending our vision into
funhouse mirrors
It’s time now to turn the soil
into a garden
Re-member You
The holes in you that you can’t see
become a cliff you fall over into despair
a puddle you walk through into resentment
a fire you stumble through into rage
and you wreck yourself walking through the dark
looking for a way that ends in definite answers
the why, the how of this body
If only the echo voice from red dirt hills,
cool springs, and spinning masquerades
could reach your ear just to say,
“Go that way”
But you are an ocean away
and generations deep into forgetfulness
the absence of, the longing for,
a home you never knew
a purpose, a reason to be
is the anchor you need to stay in this life
and rise beyond being
somebody’s little helper
The map to the missing parts of you
is the axe you need to build a path for your children
shore them up into a sturdy life
with direction and purpose
But you can only stand still and pretend you don’t feel
the absence of something you can’t name
and you feed those holes with food busy angry
because it feels useful,
feasts on the time
But until you step inside those voids,
you won’t know how to heal them shut
Just listen
The wind has a story
the candle paints a picture
the water remembers for you
You will
re-member
you
