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and the moment i slept i was swept up in a terrible tremor (though no longer bereft, how i shook! and i couldn't remember)

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rachael



Last Updated: 11/18/2009

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Tuesday, February 03, 2009 
(2.28.07)
i stare at the body while everyone else cries. my hand is still on the arm, but this isn't her arm anymore, this is an arm and that is a piano and outside there are rocks and she is somewhere else or gone, i don't know which and i suppose i never will. my mother cries and kisses the cheek and it seems absurd to me, but my face doesn't show it because it is slack and numb. the mouth hangs open and i can see into it and it is grotesque, rotted holes where rotted teeth used to be, everything will rot now, i am rotting, i will die, and i wish i could talk to her about it because i know she would have something brilliant to say but she is somewhere else or gone, i don't know which and i suppose i never will. i am suddenly overwhelmed with contempt for this shell that used to house her, that burdened her for so long and i recoil, my hand snaps back to the rest of me and i resist the urge to spit on it. this is conficted, of course, by my urge to bathe in her slowly thickening blood and build a monument with the drained body impaled at the top because these shells are all we have, this is all i have left of her and something is better than nothing. but it will burn just as she wanted and they will run a magnet through the remains to remove any metal left over from the heart's accessories. the funeral director comes and i am the only one that loved her remaining in the room as they switch the body from bed to gourney. the head clumsily drops to the side and the body is jarred when they place the body down and finally cover up the body with a sheet and wheel out the body and i think good, be gone, she's better off without you.
7:02 PM 
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Tuesday, December 30, 2008 

people murder other people in my family sometimes. the few times that this has come up in conversation with people, they think i'm kidding at first because i'm not ashamed of it and sometimes when they believe me they start to get uncomfortable, because who knows how to respond to that, i guess. i don't know. i don't know who would joke about that.

a few times i've misjudged the people i know and trusted this information to people that just got plain freaked out when i went on to tell them that i think it's very much a part of who i am, very much a part of the people i spend the most time with, very much a part of the things that i'm interested in, very much a part of my art and my brain. my brain, essentially. and i guess the people got scared because they didn't understand that i wasn't saying i would kill someone if i could, because i wouldn't. of course not, but to say that having such an overwhelming amount of blood in my family history does not affect who i am? come on. it doesn't and shouldn't make sense.

i'm real tired of picking and choosing the people that i trust this information with, so now you know, and if you think i'm weird you suck and i'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone from now on, because you're not a very interesting person.

to my friends: you rule. i won't kill you, promise!

5:01 AM 
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Sunday, July 01, 2007 

7.1.7
if he winced she would know he was hers. "how about now?"

"puh-lease."

"we'll get there."

he was surprised to hear the genuine tone of her cheerleading. she took no pleasure in his pathetic, languid frame and the way she said the words had not bordered on lurid and sexual. she pretended that she was not praying for a miracle or that her fingertips would accidentally stumble upon a deep nerve overlooked and never singed shut. she could feel his muscle spasm beneath her and as her gaze moved from his entered flesh to his face she could have sworn she had seen love in his eyes.

6:51 AM 
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Tuesday, May 22, 2007 
my tongue is thick with truths and i struggle to swallow death and the truths fall on ears attached to tired limbs and full stomachs and slowing brains and i leave the room because i am begging:

please, listen
i watched her die
and i don't know what to do with that
or myself
anymore
i know that i am moody
and that i have been smoking too much

a tennis shoe suspended in mid-air
a ball with a bell that my cat bats across the floor
a sip of soured milk
i am these things and i am tired

she was god
you didn't know?
didn't you see her toothless smile after her last sip of wine? she needed no beard or white robe and i needed no further proof than the halo of silver hair set to flame by the late afternoon sun which found her atop her electric throne

i was at her left hand because in the new testament masturbation is prayer (but we still drink heavily)

when i was a child
i wrote on my hands and arms
and still forgot

now i am always close to tears and i miss the one who is touching me because sex means less and secrets mean more

i have many decaying still, unused and restless
4:23 AM 
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Tuesday, April 10, 2007 
it is spring and i wish for fall
for leaves who wish to be birds
life is impossibly delicate
death just impossible
she is thick and heavy and more like sand than dust

too clean and too final
too dry

i licked it off my finger
like brownie batter instead of body
6:24 AM 
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Monday, February 26, 2007 

SIMPSON
ELIZABETH ALLENE (COVENEY)
At her home with her family by her side on Thursday, February 22, 2007. Elizabeth Allene, age 88, of Windgap. Beloved mother of Mollie (Fred) Sam; gramma of Rachael Sam. Mrs. Simpson was a retired Montour High School Teacher. There will be no viewing. Friends invited to a Memorial Service in the First Presbyterian Church of Crafton Heights, 50 Stratmore Ave. Crafton Heights on Sunday at 7pm. Friends received at the Church from 5pm to 7pm. In lieu of flowers memorials may be made to the A.C.L.U. 313 Atwood St., Pittsburgh, PA 15213.

4:31 AM 
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Friday, February 16, 2007 

there are spaces between my fingers where
i keep your apologies
and space behind my ribcage where i keep your heart
and space between these words for things left
unsaid

were i to read this to you i would pause between each word
and even more between each line

not for emphasis but because, when provided a script,
i still don't know what to say

in the morning lazily tracing the curve of my breast and yawning
you are feline
you are beautiful and i love you most

and when your voice quakes
and i ache and cry

and when my eyes narrow and arms cross (they are
defiant
all of me is defiant
please don't ask me to not be defiant)

28 cigarettes and i am still
here
you are still there
snow falls and water turns to ice

but slick city streets can not hold out sleeping cargo
on fast trains

2:08 PM 
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Friday, January 05, 2007 

a·pos·tro·phe 2   (?-pos'tr?-fe)
.. -->--> -->--> -->   n.   The direct address of an absent or imaginary person or of a personified abstraction, especially as a digression in the course of a speech or composition.

i say things to make him believe me.
like "you are the sea and a wave and my balance is shot
so i can't stand at the shore
but i would love to be swallowed."
i confuse even myself and we smile.

4:29 AM 
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Friday, December 29, 2006 

you guys at the end he flies around the planet and winks just like in the first one (though it's much more subtle) as a testament of his love for me. you all may have seen it too but that was only so you could bear witness to his love for me. we've been together since i was 4, okay? ours is an enduring love.

 lois lanes come and go but rachaels are forever.

10:47 PM 
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Friday, December 15, 2006 

i got 99 problems but a bitch ain't 1.

6:49 PM 
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