Organs

There's a horrible frequency sound that keeps me up at night.
It's in my head. But it vibrates all the items off shelves, the tables and chairs shaking into the center of the room to collapse on to me.
The rattling is the same sound as chattering teeth while I shiver when you aren't near.

For just the hours in the dark alone, I scrape my fingernails against the wall as I try not to let go.
The floor pulls me down to lay, and in slow motion I see myself drifting up to the ceiling.
It's hard to feel, because I feel too much.
I've always been too easily affected by these vibrations, the voices, the soft pressing fingers of ghosts checking my pulse.
"She's still alive?" They whisper in surprise.

My soul tastes like foreign cakes, delicacy to those who can only taste buried placentas.
Wrap me in these light blue veins. Take me under, pull me through.
Are you strong enough to carry the burden of love? Don't be naive to the truth.
When I'm crawling away like a child exploring, my eyes are shut. Sleep walk.
Have you ever seen the reflection of her eyes on in a pitch dark room?
Mouth open to eat the thoughts right from your conscious.
I've stared her down, become her, and puked myself out.

This is where you find me. Encapsulated in embryo.
A prisoner of waves parted, waiting for these contractions to begin.
Her womb hardens to push me out of this cave.
Will my father catch me as I fall?
Will my mother cry when she looks in my eyes?
Is it fear or is it love? I'll learn with time, it'll always be both.
Pumping blue to meet with red.

-Saree McClaran Feb 2012