Day 1:

numb, exhausted…

is this what it feels like

to be catatonic?

rejection, shock, shame

Day 2:

puffy, angry eyes

lost, confused.

air is such a sad thing…

Day 3:

wake up,

remember Day 1.

sigh

try

to hide the rise and fall of my chest

wish that I was not born to cause pain.

count backwards…

listen to the ticking of MY LIFE,

lay in a hammock (yes, this is my nest)

reflect

about how I must have shocked

my mother when she found out

that someday I had plans to breathe.

Inhale the whole stormy, frothing mess I swam through to get here…

rivers pulse through my veins, barrel through others’ expectations…

smashing them

I watch the glass house fall,

inhale the world, pull tail feathers out of the mockingbird’s song…

allow the shell to break

I make a mess,

bless

my own birth

like a stork flying backwards, glide into the hospital window where I lay in a bassinet

pick up the pen…

sign my own signature

Legitimate