Sonder

6/5/24

I see sonder when you cry.
Smoke signals, tarot cards.
A crystal in your bra.
Try and try again (to feign empathy)
but the salt keep churning
from the tears of a mother
at the bottom of the sea.

Ego-death is a curious creature.
Growling like poison from the ground
or forming as a fetus
inside the temple we trash —
yes, Echo only heard herself
and Narcissist breeds,
until sonder is the only face I see
when you smile at me.

Oversized shirts, folded thighs,
daddy issues, mommy problems,
a binge (or lack thereof),
poverty, and riches above —
abuse, purposeful or not —
toxicity, anger, anxiety depression —
adderall, repression, lies, acceptance —
drink, drugs, no hugs —
kisses, sex, or touch —
broken heart, broken wife —
generational confluence —
exponential hate, lust, love —
limp wrist, performance fist,
anal rape, McDonald’s shake —
morse code, mundane, menial men —
hands where mouths should be —
long distance, gaslight cops
kneel on neck that choke
the breath until it
stops.

Smoke signals, tarot cards.
A crystal in your bra.
Ego-death is real
and it won’t happen to us all,
unless, until, there’s a tear
that echos like Sonder ‘cross the sea
and Narcissist’s drink the salt
of the pain called empathy.