Arrive

"I started wishing on the stars in the sky instead. 
I said to the sun, tell me about the Big Bang. 
The sun said, 'It hurts to become.'
I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue, and whisper 'Bless your heart' every chance I get.
So my family tree can be sure I have not left
You do not have to leave to arrive, I am learning this slowly.


For the record, if you have ever done anything for attention, this poem is attention, title it with your name.
It will scour the city bridge every time you stand staring at the river. 
It never wants to find your body doing anything but loving what it loves.
Love what you love.
Say 'This is my body, it is no one's but mine.’ 
This is my nervous system, my wanting blood, my tongue, tied up like a ball of Christmas lights.
If you put a star on the top of my tree, make sure it's a star that fell. Make sure it hit bottom like a tambourine. 
Because all these words are stories to the staircase to the top of my lungs where I sing what hurts. 
And the echo comes back."