I am 24 years old
I smoke too many cigarettes
Rasping my voice
Drink too many cups of coffee
Gnawing away at my chest
Standing in lines, I feel dizzy
Supine in dark rooms,
Waiting for migraines to pass
My dialogue is rehearsed
What to say
When and where
A performance without end
I wake up in the middle of the night
Gasping for breath
When I was nine, I danced for you
So you would forget your rage
A dervish whirling
A ballerina on a jewelry box
A shaman in a trance
The blood in my veins
Pulsating in the jugular of my neck
I looked past your face
Diverted my gaze
The garish yellow walls
The ceiling’s peeling paint
Now, I am 35
All my phone calls, I screen all my calls
I steep herbal infusions to heal my aches
I draw knotted borders on journal pages
Cursive entanglements
Fragments of poetry
I spin circles in the center of my room
In the candle glow, long shadows surge
I dance and dance to forget my rage
The dance does not end