BEE LB

content warning for allusion to self-harm.

i will tell you this (ii)

we’ve been here before. we return to the point
at which we’ve reached our limit. only there is
no we. there are words lying on tongues
just waiting to be rolled out into sound

bodies destroy themselves in efforts to remain
whole. minds unravel in gauzy displays. the plural
here is a deflection. there is still no we, only i and
the reflection i can’t stand to see. i hold my tongue.

i hold my reflection’s tongue. two tongues the same,
both trying to speak from between my fingers.
we return to the point at which we can no longer
bear to breathe, my lungs and i, my body and i,

the deflection once named becomes useless.
i can’t bear to see the body i live in. this poem
is about too many things. i can’t keep track, except
of myself. i curl myself as small as i can bear

and marvel at the pain i can force onto this body,
holding so many mistakes. so many careless endeavors
in this endless stretch of time. all life is worth cherishing,
but there is only so much of it one can endure.

i am a body of exhaustion

mistaking ash and small birds both for snow
in the heat of may’s end. i consume my tired
as i am consumed by my tired. i count each
coin before laying over my eyelids, a growing

stack that will clamber to a fall in time.
i am told twelve and the clock disappears itself
to minutes. i am told burn and my soothe is eaten
by the shine. i am told begin and the end opens

its wide jaws. i stack my responsibilities on a wide plate.
i see it shatter on the ground while my hands clench air.
wind threatens to rip a spider’s silk, all that work
swallowed by movement. a dry throat endlessly open

lungs heave and fall, heave and fall. i fold the world small
outside of me. i spread the world endless within me.
i choke on the weight of my desire unnamed.
i let the seconds pile in my hands until they

drop. i let my body unearth itself from life.
i let my mind cleave itself from body. i let
my body soil in its named beauty. i place
myself in darkness, wait to ferment.

content warnings for: psychosis, dissociation, drug ab/use, suicide, bodily harm

iconography

in one of many / breaks / from reality / i saw a crow & thought it / self / fractured my self & named it
/ ade / an angel / an offering / of forgiveness / to the world / i could not live in // counted telephone
poles / & potholes / & hid / between the boxspring & the floor // counted / crows & blades / of grass
// walked through walls / in the absence / of drywall / planks left with the promise / of fill // watched
/ the boy who was the body’s brother / lift / from a dead sleep / into the air / body weightless / in the
arms / of his father / saw the head loll / from the neck / the mourning for christ / brought to life /
lacking anything mistakable / for holiness // watched the woman / who was the body’s mother / curl /
around shining porcelain / her knees / bent / lacking supplication / shivering herself sick / from oxy /
on an empty stomach // watched the man who gave / the body / its mother’s name / slip pill after pill
past his lips / seeking / the same absence of a world / he could not live in // i sought only to replicate //
waited for refill & counted / holy relics / prayed / to the angel / housed in my mind / to take me / in
its arms / to lift me / from the ground / to deliver me / from reality / into a world of only light //
instead / found my way / to a haze / of days spent outside / my/self / body cracked & bleeding / with
no one inside it // woke to the promise / of pain & unseeing / lifted / from the ground / by my own
two legs / made my way back / to the world i could not live / or die in // walked the road & searched /
for any sign / of black wings / found / nothing // faced the excision / of self & begged / with agatha’s
tongue: see / my heart, know / my desires. / possess / all / that i am. // fractured the self & named it /
absence.

BEE LB is an array of letters, bound to impulse; a writer creating delicate connections. they have called any number of places home; currently, a single yellow wall in Michigan. they have been published in FOLIO, Roanoke Review, and Figure 1, among others. they are a poetry reader for Capsule Stories. their portfolio can be found at twinbrights.carrd.co