oh my darling / this is me in water

by Alicia Turner

sometimes, you see that i am not shallow puddles / i am swerving / fast-moving exits / bravery through books and bottles / you hold the baggage that is this hurt in your hands / while i twist off the top / dim the light / imagine i am as bright as your illusion of me / do a little work here / i think / “do i sacrifice the hardness of a moment for the softness of now?” / pause / your core / camping out in the dark / i get to know you / with each convulsion / “and, if so, what does that say about me?” / a cliché that occurs like clockwork / you knead into my sheets / my notebook / my bed / solemnly swear that you are up to no good / and I believe you / still, you whisper, “meet me” / but the train is slow-moving / no, not here / banging my head against the brick / it’s too much to carry / i know / all in my head / oh, my darling / this is me in water / my anti-manic pixie dream girl / siren song / you send waves / i lay atop rocks / we both hurt / no, not here / in these moments / i am not less because i need more / each time enchantress creature / or / most of all / when my body trembles like tides / no, not here / hardening my hope / i will not be metamorphosed into rock / we are world builders / you work with your hands and I, with my words / you frolic / freckle fields for days / under-think with your heart / refuse to be still / through currents / i have revised you / i have watched you sink / what i mean is / that sinking feeling / insist that you love to swim / drip sweat onto my cheek / only to retire when they wear me too thin / or too heavy / the weight of it all / i, too / salt my food before i taste it / i, too / pour salt in old wounds / the sound of stinging is no joke / oh, my darling / penance lives within these pressure points / a mediocre medley / that we all sing or singe / where we’re not here / no / “we’re lost and gone forever” / dreadful sorry that for me, there is no memory too messy to keep / keepsakes are what the sea breaks against / whether they are buried / is all in how they’re built

Alicia Turner holds an MA in English and is a grant writer/storyteller from West Virginia. She can mostly be found writing confessional, conversational poetry in an over-priced apartment somewhere in WV. Her poem, ‘The Anxiety (A),’ was published in CTD’s ‘Pen-2-Paper’ project and her piece on “flux,” or change, was published by Four Lines (4lines) and shared across multiple media platforms. She has forthcoming publications.

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