i don't think there comes an inherent healing with poems or with time. i was once so triggered i thought i was home i got comfortable i took off my bag my jacket each layer from off my shoulder until i unzipped & was sitting on my own skin in the dark so long it could only have been a chair, wherein my skin hangs ass over the armrest for decoration, growing eyes out in this silence, like a passive God, and yet everything was just still there, like my eczema, which i scrape from so long, i pull from scabs the scaffold with a bike attached by my project/building. yes, i did thumb through all (t)his courtcase/heartbreak, belt that made the brown a darker brown & i said it fertilized my flower bed some days, knowing on some days that it would not. &, yes, this whole thing’s a garden. it(ch)- the scaffold contraption, with it's chains, lock, & self, clings to iron like how mothers do the good child after losing custody i'd say each bike, hugging the scaffold, was & is me. and it was here - i asked to be let out of me for so long in my room that in the interim, a boy got his wish for death, got born again, woke up in a new mother's arms, & then, again, he still handed us his newest intercom eulogy. & although we knew each mother wanted every moment he could have been to rupture the eardrums of a passive God, all we asked for was a moment/of silence. people be counterintuitive. but, this, this one time i died for so long, while i became a quantum thing so broken in its compartments light could not emit, i thought i was giving out a healing/a poem/a love but fell instead and kept falling until every orifice of me shifted to red and then translucent and then, “what was his name?” whoever he was, he was who i was then[?”] giving empty space, paradoxically warm, with a mouth so good, God undid me. and i kept going. knowing what i wanted was a whole body again, all i asked for was to be/undone. how mother dusting off her son’s casket with a wail begins to have an a’ight day, within an archive of stillness & still- together, i am still/here…