My Mistake

I dream of you, my favorite lover
Though it has been many years
Since that sparkling summer
When I was 18 and you were 17
I was unprepared to fall so deep

Your hand on mine
Was enough to stop time
I stayed awake all night
Electrified by your touch

And more terrified than I realized, to mess it up
It was my fear that froze me and left you out in the cold
I thought my feelings for you meant that we would never part,
I thought surely you must feel the same way in your heart
But our relationship didn’t even get off the ground
The engine of my airplane is still churning ’round

I wish I had been more reckless-
Gotten drunk with you, had unprotected sex and let you impregnate me
I’d give up my education and prestige of my career
Just to hold you near once more

Instead, my unrequited feelings for you became misplaced on others,
Those many unwanted lovers
No one holds a candle to you-
My heart is a bonfire burning blue

In my dream, you once again hold my hand
I feel the magnetic touch that I’ve missed so much,
Feel the electric current flow between us.
I feel blissfully happy,
Until I wake up to the real nightmare-
that you are married and have a kid.
I feel so happy for you and so sad for me.

In dreaming of you, that sense of magical love is awoken in me
As if I might turn the corner and find love staring back at me
And this time not drop the ball at my feet

But more likely,
I’ll open my eyes to the love all around me
Or look within and realize that I’ve always had it all

Rather than the wish,
I am the well.

I mistook the feelings you brought out in me as something that you alone could give me, like you were my heroin dealer, my poppy seed
I mistook you for the source, but you were the springboard
Off of which I catapulted into the abyss
Tumbling through the dark, I held onto to my spark
Let it glow and grow
And now I know
We are all source-
We are love manifested into physical form

The feeling of losing your love threw me for a loop
For a minute there, I lost myself
My mistake

Perhaps without you,
I would not have come to realize
That we are all love itself

Without the exquisite pain I felt in your absence
I would not have had to comfort myself
by curling up under the blanket
woven by the in-separateness of all
You, me, and everyone we know
Are golden threads in this tapestry
Leaves on the sole tree of life

Warfare Fetish

I hurt myself
I commit acts of violence toward myself
I take a loaded gun- a bare cock, lock it into place,
Point it at my bulls-eye cervix
And fire away

Blast boom bam
Bedazzling fireworks are followed by smoke and tears
I burned myself in the crossfire for too many years
My body is the battlefield
The dust settles and the smoke clears
I know what I must do- get rid of this unhealthy relationship, drop that atomic break-up bomb on this unsuspecting man’s heart

Though he will complain of the grenade-like explosion I throw at him,
I am the one who picks up the pieces
I am the one who deals with pregnancy and gets an abortion
I am the one who feels the pain of picking out the bullet and the shrapnel shards- the little life growing inside my uterus

I’m sorry, little one
I’m so sorry
You didn’t get a fighting chance
I was fighting myself all along

I want peace for you, me and all beings
Finally, the dear doctor who provided my most recent abortion agreed to give me an IUD

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling supported by this safety net
I finally have control over my body and my future
No more pregnancy scares

I want to practice safer sex
With condoms every time
With printed STI results
That my partner and I exchange
Before we come close to swapping bodily fluids
I never want to have an abortion again

The next time I get pregnant, it will be because I want to, because I am ready, because my partner and I are committed to each other, and are committed to care for another little life.

After warring against myself for many years,
At last my love for myself has come along
May I take a break from singing this sad song-
May I stop getting my rocks off on harming myself
May I put my masochism back on the shelf.

May I no longer explore my fetish of warfare against myself.