Baby Yoda Dialogue

The dialogue in my brain

when I self impose disappointment

of myself

in myself

is

I wish I was dead

but I do not wish I was dead

I am grateful to be alive

I am fearful of dying

and wish champagne 

was a complimentary beverage 

at the continental breakfast

of a life that I am living

Please, Gods, make a one stop app

where I can pick,  choose, and curate

weekends, vacations, and Sunday nights 

and opt in to pay the extra twenty dollars

for guilt-free hangovers 

on my days off

With you

Golly

Please tell your therapist about me

After Math and The Science of Almost 40

I stand up
straighten my back
for at least 30 seconds
every day
I daydream while sleeping
about doctors fixing me
my body
a case worth studying
The back splash in my kitchen
is always clean
and the gun in my mouth
is just a fantasy
that I am quick to replace with
flowers I am smelling
not hanging myself from my balcony

Because
there is you

It is
exactly as I thought it would be
everything is the same
but different
You are with me

We are
together

Our babies go crazy for us
we plot to keep them company
and apologize
when we do not fall asleep
at the exact same moment
as them
And we
fall asleep inside of ourselves
bodies so out of touch
we’re ashamed to know each other

Okay, I said it
this is the aftermath of almost forty
and the science of anatomy
but I still want you
to want me

Can we stop saying we are almost forty?
I need to be in my 30’s
This is a safe place for me
Remember, it is just you. And me.
Perfect company

Anxiety:::And Getting Close to You

Before we get into into this
the details, up and down,
the poetry (the debilitating anxiety)  
let’s take a moment to breathe

I hid poems everywhere
back when I had time
to play
with words
for example
in 2011 when I casually did this

We Get Away From, From Ourselves

He welcomed her third person addresses
She was afraid of him, piety,
angels, the end, and forever
She was afraid of penalty
He thought she might be perfect,
beautiful, and between them there was no sin
or wretchedness or pity for the world
In a word, they  were pure
anyone could witness their love,
or find them in the palm of
a prayer, or in the petal of a rose,
or on the other side of the world
Him, her only measure of beautiful 

First line
Third letter in
Down
And then
Last line
Third letter from the end
Back up again

The title of the Poem
We get away from, from ourselves
Is explicitly written
Back in 2011

This is why it’s hard to breathe sometimes
Why I don’t write anymore
I tried. I really gave it my all

But how would anyone
notice the nuances
if I did not first
point them out to y’all?

Freud. Ferns. Fences.

Whatever it is

that is keeping you from me

the place you were three years ago 

that never hurt but ached 

and made life intolerable but

manageable 

that grew green things

that sometimes died

but mostly lived and grew and spilled

and wanted to be outside

or just watered intermittently.

Whatever it is

just

come back to me

Karen

Take your time
Let the last word you say
resonate
fill the room
with exactly what you feel
Resonate
become we
Two letter word
Everybody’s type