Sirens

My whole world lurches sideways –
familiar days and plans
tumble violently from grasp,
dates and weeks flounder
in the murk of confusion,
and I’m falling,
falling again –
I can no longer make sense of June,
or how long it will take to get to the end of it.

I know you didn’t mean to, but your words
wrenched my heart so roughly
it’s seeping again – I can’t help it.
It’s an old wound, really,
shaped by the story of a thousand cuts
that began before
we both were born.
It’s not your fault,
but a little tenderness
would do a lot for the mending.
It’s funny how a tiny prick
can bring you to your knees
while a single hard blow
doesn’t always do the trick.

But the wind is cruel and merciless –
sirens sent us all scurrying underground
while the house shook and groaned
in the middle of the night.
On the way down I grabbed
things that might vanish,
or that I might need
if everything came to an end
in the end –
chilled water
tattered leash
sensible shoes
passport that may very well outlive me
flashlight to find my way through the rubble
and oh yes,
a clean pair of underwear.
I sat near the washing machine
on the stool with the wheels
and the tray underneath
with my head in my hands
wondering what to do.
A spider approached from across the room
and stopped right in front of me.
We sized each other up
while I reminded myself
that she probably had pretty eyes
and did good work
in the studio that I never use.
I even thought we could be friends
until I moved my leg
and scared the crap out of her.
She made a beeline for the workbench
at lightning speed
and I realized the thunder
was slowly fading.
I’m still wondering
what she was trying to tell me.

I know you didn’t mean it,
but I’m staring at July
through vaseline eyes
and still can’t quite get a grip
on what it is that I’m supposed to do.
I could throw me a rope
but time escapes
like an eel through fingers
and honestly,
I can’t feel the bottom anymore,
but my friends are holding my head
above water.

Sirens send us all to the basement
while the house shakes and groans
in the middle of the night.

Author: Michelle LaRiviere

Michelle is a multidisciplinary artist, curator, writer, and teacher. She is also a Reiki Master and life coach, specializing in guided soul work. Her art has been exhibited nationally in Canada, as well as in Italy, the UK, and the United States. Her practice includes traditional as well as digital media. View all posts by Michelle LaRiviere