I barely felt the knot or the needle. His eyes, his long black eye. I stood waiting for the door to open. Inside he looked, right through me as if I went on forever. His fist was on the knob and he twisted. Something broke, I looked away. The air from another room, rushed between us. I am used to being tied and poked. The space and breath was unbearable. I could be free. he could push right through. The threshold, to suffer the truth of my reaching. He was still breathing, heavy with clouds. Then he moved toward my mouth, bursting with anger. I am alone. emptying the bardo…

every morning I wake up at his funeral. and every night I go to bed, forgetting death. entering a flap-less realm. with the scheme of a songbird, lost. with the eyes of a bat, just a vampire. hungry to forget. one more time I cry in my sleep. for losing my grip, for letting him fall. asleep I ask myself where did he go, was I wrong to turn over. they say our past can haunt us and that it simultaneously makes us who we are. against our will, we work so hard. we marry and grow tired of pulling apart. and in this lullaby I can barely describe- let me just say, I did not bury or burn him. every morning I wake up to the sound of his last breath, a broken smile. inside me a jagged anger at a cloud slow passing, I cannot forget you, not here, not now. every night I let go and float with his anchor. a corpse floating in the night zigzagging toward another useless morning. I did not exist, not as what they all supposed. I was not how you saw me then, stooping- or now, digging. no. I have been slipping for a very long time between the two of us. dangling and watching the horizon. his eyes were the sunset of a god I no longer believed. and my life was over, yes it was. a long icy winter set in hatched by ghosts too cold to see. the funeral in the morning, my old looking at this mirror. a clump of flesh still trying to stay warm. voices. voices fall around me saying things like “hold on” and “blah blah blah” my head has cracked against this stone. nothing moves even as death ceases to change things. I can tell you how I got here. the other side where his voice has disappeared and his agony is only known by me. why agony they all would say, why the silence and pain. tomorrow I will rise again and he will be here with me in a new way, the same way since then. the death that I can’t rip out, starve or smother. then I will lie in the dark another night up against the invisible slope of my heartless mind and I will formulate plans to exorcise my mortality. I will plan to exhume the half baked body from beneath me and eat it’s hell raw. fuck it’s ghosts in the mind mouth. I am not a violent person, I am afraid of the phantoms that move up and down, the aisles and the halls while the song plays and everyone touches each other in solace. but in their eyes I see another story, another morning. the new one like mine. she is coming. and tonight, beneath the blankets the little breaths will wriggle and you won’t know the things crawling under your skin by tomorrow. so you’ll wake up thinking it’s me or you’re not simply an infested shell acting organized. I know where the truth waits in these transitory spaces where we feel it’s our right or destiny to choose. but it isn’t, he is so narrow thin in that box, I’ve imagined it. his hands over his heart, crossed. his fish eyes just beneath the  gray skin flaps- but it’s not true. I have smelled his skin burning. I have fell as ash day by day spread over the night in echos. you just can’t repeat me. my little bone in mouth savior. I did not ever want this wreck and abode. the cracked mirror I was born with and named and clung to. I think only of you who is my enemy. I think only of walls I can’t seem to smash, of you. Us, together wearing these rings. while everyone cries we are still. while they all think I’m wretched, I will find again that string of fresh sunlight and twist. Sharada Devi


6 thoughts on “Anima”

  1. You know how to twist.

    the pain will touch you
    the breath will bring light through you, in cathartic release
    I am yours

    the nightmare fell and we both got up. come to me now and I will always
    find you. come like the river you spoke, and I will
    not give up your gift. thank you, bird, fiery person, are you a phantom? Are we wed, I believe like a root, firmly wrapped around your fist, the size of your heart, are the days coming, beating, going nowhere

  2. Hey Sharada, I want to say thank you for all the material you put out. The video lectures are really profound and helpful and no really is putting out something like that. Much appreciated. Do you guys plan on doing more of them?

  3. Twist and shout amidst all the harsh judgmental that comes from — just A SPACE, belonging to no one. “Somebodiness” is SO frigging POWERFUL. So drugging INPORTANT to our eyes, our “I”s, as well as even our ayes.

    “Nobodiness” is ultimate eternal refuge, like the nowheresville between the clean easy breaths of contraction and expansion.

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