Shatter -  Two Happy Left Feet
 
I begin to dance
with fragments of glass
staring back and forth
so I cannot count myself.

I try to catalogue
all the little pieces
of me that have 
fallen along the way.
Fractions of a 
smaller self that
I cannot reconcile
with the women
who surround me.

Like a word repeated
over and over and over
and over and over
I become syllables
without sentiment
movement
without context.

I attempt to gather my 
soul into these skins
and remember the 
memories my freckles have
but they have scattered
to the four corners of
a foreign moon.

And I find it easier
to identify with the
caterpillar in his chrysalis
than the girl who
wore my eyes yesterday.

But she nestles,
that familiar stranger,
making a womb
of my left ventricle
and whispers to me
all the stories my mind
cannot remember.

She sits there,
my wild-haired fever-
dream child
and taps out the re
percussions
of a life she lived
in my other skin.



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    Poetry/Essays

    Ever since I was little I have enjoyed playing with words.  I recently went through some of my old journals (which I have been keeping since my freshman year of high school) and dug up some of my favorites.  Some of them I revised a little, and some I left as is.  Not all of the sentiments still ring true, but it is an interesting experience for me to reread and share them.  It's a little like opening an old letter from someone you haven't talked to in ages.  I am still writing plenty and I'm sure that there will be more poems and essays about my current experiences here soon.  Buen provecho!

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