Explaining What Living in Your Body Feels Like to Your Therapist//It Hurts Like

Existential dread? Anyone?

4 a.m., a slow flood of the ghosts spring brings 

seeps through a screen window, and morning 

opens its palm like it’s asking for more. 

It’s raining lightly, and your first thought is

you miss your father.

It hurts like believing wanting something

is the universe's way of stretching

all of your necessary parts; skin

bone, sight, grief, your fear as thin and tightly

as it can across a second hand mattress.

You are the guest room that’s been furnished and

still feels unlived in.

It hurts like no one ever taught you to drive

and it gets difficult to explain yourself 

when you are always running out of breath.

Every climb is a slow climb when you’re on foot,

and when the drop is as far and hungry

as home seems it never matters how much

promising distance there is between you and them,

only that there is a “you”,

and there is a “them”.

It hurts like the only things you have ever 

been good at are the things that cause the most pain,

so you write your parent’s eulogy 6 years

too late and remember to have your friends

over for dinner, soon, otherwise they

will forget to love you and you will die.

Author's Note

I am so terrible at endings. I have yet to finish this one.

Reviews

[Lara]

It's a fine and thoughtful write, Mars.
Including the ending...
I'm inclined to believe some stories just won't fit with pretty-bow kind of endings, anyway. They wouldn't be themselves otherwise.
"soon..." might have been a good place to finish. Though I appreciate the way it is already, too.

[Billy]

Your poem is a very poignant exploration of grief, longing, and complexity. The opening lines, "4 a.m., a slow flood of the ghosts spring brings seeps through a screen window…," creates a haunting and atmospheric tone for the rest of the poem. There is a real sense of profound loss and longing throughout, culminating with the final lines that are both heartbreaking and thoughtful, in expressing of a fear of being unloved or forgotten. The language throughout is very lyrical and you’ve created a really beautiful and vulnerable elegy to loss.

[RobertHart]

I think this is a true work of art even without an ending. Can't remember the last time I read something that made me go through the roller coaster of emotions. Looking forward to reading more soon.

[Vol]

Mars,
Not a lot of people have your depth of insight. Most folks can tell you something sad, but few can lay a foundation heavy enough to carry the weight of great human tragedy, great human loss, and the huge weight of what "might have been." If you continue to write with such strength of expression and voice, you might even get famous... just don't let LIFE get in your way. Chores and jobs are deadly to the poet.
Vol

[unsavable_soul]

I'm giving you a 99 only cause you convey it isn't a finished work. There is much depth and emotion here, I love how complete I feel I can gather the writers emotions and even disconnected/yet connected conveyance are relatable. I can't say what the main point is but I get the strong notion a ghost would whole heartedly relate to this expression. An amazing write I'd say with to me no dire t structure or principles but as I often find that unique approach offers a relatable yet truly unique artistic expression. Thanks for your review, very glad I chose to see whose art such an insightful review came from.

[Mars August]

Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. I write to heal and to suck the poison from the wound. I hope we get to exchange more!