Things You Say To Me When I’m Falling Into Myself:

Adefisayo Adeyeye

 
 

I.

Your name is not rubbed in glass 
it doesn’t hurt me to say it,  no matter what you think,
whatever you’ve been told.

II.

I will dig you out of your bones, I swear. I’m just going to need a little time.

III.

You’re going to forget all of the things you ever learned. You’re going to forget the presidents, who won what war,
who’s got a law named after them.

You’re going to forget my name
and my number.

But hopefully not my face,
the feeling of my fingerprints  inside your skin.

IV.

Help is an act of forgiveness.
Help is cleaning blood off the floor of 
the bathroom and hiding the rags, hiding the razors.

Help is hands and ribs and teeth.
Let me help you.

V.

I will come down for you, I will climb down the bent and broken backs of trees
and hold you in my arms.

VI.

You really shouldn’t leave it all up to me.

 

Adefisayo Adeyeye lives and writes in Southern California. His work has appeared in Fat City Review, Shabby Doll House, and is forthcoming in Petrichor Machine