the last places I looked

after all the times I have been lost

I found myself tangled in the ropes of my life and the lives of others. I found myself watching my little brother carry a coffin home on his shoulders. I found myself seeing my little brother resemble a man. I found myself tearing the pages of my favourite books and burning them in the pyre. I found myself howling at the moon as she turned her face into the black and left me. I found myself scrawling incantations thrice. I found myself scrawling incantations six times. I found myself scrawling incantations nine times, swirling them on my tongue, each word the bead of a rosary before I fell to sleep. I found myself scream bloody in the purple night. I found myself having prophetic visions of events yet to come and of losses yet to be gifted to me. I found myself waking inside my visions. I found myself at loss. I found myself in those visions. I found myself counting the white hairs on my mother’s temples. I found myself giving over to prayer, making offering at my mother’s temple. I found myself scrying my own reflection many midnights in a row. I found myself prying my reddened eye open with gentle fingers. I found myself lost in time with the unravelling lives of every single mayfly. I found myself with eyes heavy and drooping like fat over-ripe cherries. I found myself tumble through my bed until morning and until night again. I found myself picking the weeping fruits of my eyes up off the floor and putting them back in my head. I found myself running through the woods with only the last winks of the sun for company. I found myself laughing at the floor/the ceiling/my bedroom door. I found myself deaf and alone. I found myself with a chorus of voices in the forest. I found myself elbow-deep in the dirt. I found myself whaling in my dreams. I found myself fighting through sleep to wake up like I fought the ocean to come up for air. I found myself wringing the water out of my laundry. I found myself in my back jean pocket in a note I had left for someone a long time ago. I found myself in the doctor’s chair as my vision went black and I let it. I found myself letting the wine drip down my chin. I found myself in my palm. I found myself on a cross that she’d erected herself and I found myself pull her back down again. I found myself sleeping. I found myself with aching hips and an arching back. I found myself carrying. I found myself still.