nancy who was a nurse




i miss nancy

telling me 


it’s going to be alright


i miss nancy

who was a nurse,

whose voice was a warm butter bath,

she told me

what i needed to believe


you need time             trust me


she would remind me:        you’ll be fine


i needed to believe her words 

i tried to believe,

but couldn’t


it’s going to get better


i miss nancy

her words held me in 

the safe palm of her hand


i miss nancy

who was a nurse


When my mind succeeds

in ordinary little ways,

the feathers on the back 

of my neck

stand on end,


and pretend to fly


sync out


there was a time

when i could just muscle through

keep moving forward

falling down in the right direction

without thinking about anything

reacting to the foreign energy

shaping my dimensions

lose control and not caring 

flowing into dead ends

that didn’t kill me

and didn't end


i remember the white-knuckle

carnival ride through the storms

that blow through my head

waiting for the next roller coaster

defying gravity 

but expecting to be in freefall

any time now



sometimes i stand

looking at my door,

with my still hand            

                     gripping the knob,

squeezing it tight

until the blood in my hand

presses up to the skin;


and i wonder 

what do i need to say

to myself

to turn the knob 

and open the door



If my mind 

all its cogs and gears

ever syncs itself to act together

if i get the machine well-oiled

tuned up perfectly

i would raise a quiet hell

about my desecration

resurrection or restoration


i’d try to be brave

i’d have new questions

for those who practice

medicine on me;

for the people who gradually left 

me on my own

for the people i can’t trust


answers will not be available


in hommage 

the sky will explode:

i’ll cut my feet on shattered stars

walk on scattered lives

door open



another time

i opened my door,

nothing was 

ever the same