on my good days, i liken myself to a water faucet:
slowly dripping out the very thing that keeps me alive
& i have died but am not dead.
//am i -
am i here to be ruined?//
i would love to be ruined if it means i am sacred enough to be kept close. to be the familiar.
& someone wants me home.
i have died but am not dead
[am i lazarus?]
4 days dead & returned from the grave. i was 6 days dead & restored again
[i am lazarus]
with two more days to call a miracle. i have been called a miracle so often i think people have forgotten what it means to be sacred.
they wept //slowly dripping out the very thing that kept us alive//
on my bad days, i liken myself to death. i know this is not good but i must for if i do not have death to fear than surely i cannot be called human?
& i am both lazarus & the grave that he keeps.
& i am both the breath & the body that it leaves.
i live in my grave-clothes; so lonely, but not alone,
& although i live, someone really wants me home.