Straight Lines
a poem about the body keeping score

My body revolts
suppressed
movement at a breakneck pace
C a l m s nerves
it appears like joy- mixed
up
I’ll conjure up checklists
large looping letters
notes on the margins
next to a black ball point pen
additions I’d etch into my brain
in a hurry
I’d remember
a badge she pinned on me young-
capable
I struggled.
A wire unhooked in recent years
backlog of data to be processed-
Later, I insisted
Later,
the nebula slips
pulling flares
hives erupt across my skin from sunlight
grass
dust
air
Life
My temper burns over a plastic lid
the violence of its placement
askew
disrupted the straight
line
The glitch pulls my feet up
into an orange sky
dumping out redacted
copper
pennies
they fall heavy onto the cold cement-
defeated
I’m still upside down
blood rushing to my head-
I’m purple
I hear someone say
Steady,
Not here.
Implosion
I’m on a feather bed
Too soft
If you asked
My words have no space
in this room
Or in my lined head
It flushes from my skin as liquid
willow trails
of water
long inky hair
Where
Why
it comes
sinking stones
It does.
It clutches -
sharpened claws puncturing
my aorta
thah dum thah dum
the beat reflects in wide eyes
thah dum thah dum
solid
numb
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.

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