The Turtle and the Lemur

A giant sea turtle sat on the beach,
watching the waves smash into the rocks,
and watching them slide back and forth over the shore.
She delighted at the sight,
as fish and crabs and plants came and went.

She wanted to run into the water
to be with the other sea creatures,
bus she couldn’t remember what the water felt like.
She turned and looked toward the trees,
and she saw the happy monkeys swinging,
the squirrels dancing,
and the birds gliding from branch-to-branch.

Then, a beautiful, wise lemur sat next to her,
and asked her what was wrong.
She replied that the water looked so enchanting,
but that she couldn’t remember how to swim.

“The water is filled with perils,
and you can never know which direction
the water will choose to go.
Look at the crab: he eats the plants from the water,
and spends the rest of his time trying to escape the dangerous water.
In the water, the safest animals are those with fins,
but you have four legs, just like me,
haven’t you?”

The giant sea turtle was sad. She knew that he was right,
but she still felt a great affinity for the sea.
“But why do I long for the sea?” she asked.

The beautiful, wise lemur’s eyes lowered and tightened.
“Often, we want that which is unsafe;
many a ruin has come from wanting
that which brings great danger.
Look at the monkeys playing.
Do they seem endangered?”

“No,” replied the giant sea turtle.

“And do the squirrels not seem overjoyed?”
asked the beautiful, wise lemur.

“They do,” the giant sea turtle solemnly replied.

“Even the birds, who glide over the air,
can trust that they will safely land
on firm branches or solid grounds.”

The giant sea turtle’s neck drooped low enough
that she could smell the wet sand.
The beautiful, wise lemur felt the giant sea turtle’s pain,
and it saddened him.
“Wouldn’t you prefer to be safe?
After all, the joy that we experience in this world
depends on our survival,
doesn’t it?”

The giant sea turtle looked out at the water,
and a fish, shining in the sun,
swam up to her.
It smiled, and the giant sea turtle felt
that the fish was very happy,
and the giant sea turtle wanted to be so happy.

Fight Free from Sirens

Polaris in her eyes,
a mouth full of sin,
encumberingly marble-esque architecture.

She was baptized in chicken grease and guitar strings,
and she can’t tell what time it is.
She’ll talk about church,
and she’ll talk about heaven,
but ask her what the future holds,
and she’ll spit at you for sinning.

She teaches how to sit,
and she’s read a thousand books,
but she can’t tell you how to read her thoughts.

She’s a small, scared dog,
cowering beneath a coffee table,
but ask her how she feels,
and she’ll bare her teeth and growl.

Her big-eyed, tear-filled smile will suck you in,
and her dance will keep you around,
but ask enough questions,
don’t keep her distracted,
and those teeth will push you off.

Before I Leave You

I need someone to tell me how I feel.
I’m just another desperate person
waiting for my dreams to end,
laying in the dark,
on my icy apartment’s linoleum floor,
testing the limits of hypothermia.

I’m dangerously quiet now.
Acid bubbles beneath the thin sheet of
skin that envelopes my brittle bones.
I no longer notice any of millions of passing thoughts.
My joints are gyrating,
and I can’t close my eyes.

I left the kitchen knife on the nightstand;
it still has my blood and your fingerprints on it.
I’d finish the job,
but I’m too tired to pick it up.

You smile so beautifully when you watch me bleed.