TEETH-STAIN & SELF PORTRAIT OF MY NAME AS THE WINGS OR THE GOD by Aisling Nehemiah
TEETH-STAIN
let me tell you a secret
god bit me in a dream last night
and when i woke up there was blood staining my teeth.
i don’t know what love’s supposed to feel like,
but i don’t think this is it —
i don’t think you are it.
but when i hold my breath and feel the earth beneath my feet
i can still hear your voice in the rustle of the bushes.
i know that's not normal,
i know i’m sick with whatever this is i feel for you,
but i also know you hear him too —
so at least you're just as rotten for someone else.
and yes, i know what they’ll say —
we’re young, we’re only newborns in the eyes of god
and his grand plans for us and our unfurling futures.
but maybe, if we closed our eyes for just one second,
we could watch time go by like traffic or
the tantruming child i saw in the grocery store last monday.
because if you trusted me
for just one second,
maybe, just maybe,
we could pretend we hold eternity in the palms of our hands
when really, it holds us.
and please bear with me,
won’t you just let me have this,
won’t you just hold me for one moment,
one moment that’s all i ask for,
and then i’ll sew my mouth shut and you can love him all you want.
i know i should message you,
i know i should apologise,
but i can't be mad at you for dishonesty
if i lie myself. besides,
i am scarily good at making excuses — like
my veins are pulsing again and i can’t get out of bed
or i can still taste your saliva and i’ll never eat again
or my hair is falling out and
why can’t we just tell the truth,
it could be so simple if we let it,
if you let it,
if you let me,
if you
loved me.
do you love me?
look what you’ve done to me:
i went to bed crying last night
and woke up dehydrated but
at least the tears washed your taste away.
because really, i am just a scared little girl
who wants to escape her body and i know you’ll never love me
but i am just a girl who wants to escape so i
will eat my own tail and end as i began
because i bit you in a dream last night.
and when i woke up, my flesh was raw.
but i was okay — the sun was creeping through the curtains
and for the first time since leaving home,
i found god in something other than you.
SELF PORTRAIT OF MY NAME AS THE WINGS OR THE GOD
if you had seen
the way sunlight trickled through the leaves
and fell upon her lips
the way swallows ate right out of her hand
the way dragonflies kissed her thighs,
their iridescent wings reflecting her bruises,
if you had felt her breath on your neck,
heard her murmur your name
her tongue carving the letters one by one,
kissing her teeth with a rotten softness
that mirrored the guilt and reverie of church, if you had watched
as her lips opened like an unfurling blossom and let the letters spill out,
if you had opened your mouth too,
if you had told her that you loved her,
if she had heard your voice and knew
she wasn’t the only rotten one, hungry one,
but she didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t.
it was always her mouth beating itself empty,
because you thought
that if you spoke
you wouldn’t be able to stop till you lost her.
so it was always her larynx that was the angel,
never the other way around.
always the letters a-i-s-l-i-n-g as the wings, or the god, but
what's the difference really anyways? and does it even matter?
she doesn’t believe in god anymore.
not after everything that happened.
are you still listening?
have you forgotten?
you promised you wouldn’t,
but it wasn’t that, was it,
it was that you couldn’t.
but maybe if you had seen the way she danced in that creek
a pillar diverting the unrelenting current.
her golden skin outlined by the grey of the granite,
the frigid water kissing her waist.
if you had tasted the easter chocolate on her tongue
if you had held her damp skin, shivering, against yours
if you had told her it would be alright and kissed her till she laughed
and told you, i know, i know, i know, my love
told you, you worry too much, what are you scared of?
if you had told her the truth, if you had told her you were scared she would leave,
if you had opened your mouth,
to her, if you had opened your mouth
if you had opened your mouth and bit what was right in front of you,
if i
had simply eaten my share
until there was no hollow ache beneath my rib cage,
if i had been able to devour without guilt,
to take what was mine without fearing god’s vengeance
as punishment for my indulgence,
if i had known that it was okay to love, to dance, to eat, to want, to be,
if i had not feared losing that life,
if i had realised that it is better to have it and lose it than never at all,
then maybe, just maybe,
i would have been able to kiss her.
but i didn’t.
i didn’t.
i didn’t kiss her.
but i will, one day.
i will.
“i trashed these pieces because they felt like cutting my heart out and showing the world my raw, bleeding chest, empty and unbandaged. i didn’t have the resolve to stitch myself back up without once again drowning in gore. or in other words, i couldn’t edit them into coherent strings of words without losing myself in the emotion i wrote them with. so they stayed buried at the bottom of my poetry document, messy and loose and raw. until now!!!”
aisling nehemiah (xe/xem/xyr) is an emerging queer and disabled poet on gadigal land (sydney, australia). xe likes to write about angels, sapphic love, rotten corpses, and sticky sunlight. as well as writing poetry, xe enjoys playing guitar, writing songs, learning too many languages, writing too many books, and drinking tea with too many teabags. you can find xem on instagram @v333spertine.