[It wasn’t about love]

by Emily Skaja

 

 

It wasn’t about love     I was giving a speech

                     I was saying This is about violence

Get over love, sure                        Bright landscape

                     It was a house that fell down                        I fell toward myself

I couldn’t see myself at the bottom I woke up on the dirt floor of the old cellar I had new limbs

                     New inadequate gestures of suffering      Chimeric thing

Blurred reaching            wings out

                     pelican mouth            unfull but full of loathing          

Would you describe that sound as wailing?

                     I was speaking            I said I never want to survive that story again

It was explained to me that I was in danger

                                                                  Someone was listening

 If you say X then we’ll have to tell someone   

                                                                  I was speaking            I didn’t say X

I said yes to a bottle I said yes

                                                                  to the rope of my own hands

to a body to a body

                                                                   I was only                    I was only

A body alone with its own blood                  blue

                                                                                      in its skin-tape