top 40 in an uber, November 2018

there is something cathartic

about crying hysterically

in the back of an uber

while the driver glances over

at the rear view and nervously

digs through the top 40

attempting to ignore you

while Mariah Carey tell us

all she wants for christmas

and it’s “you”

John is not a great driver

but he’s a good companion

he knows that I am not okay

and he doesn’t need to ask

he lands on a song

about moving on

and ISNT IT IRONIC

i thought i had emerged

burial shroud

in hand

ready for the WHOLE world

but tonight I am liable to dig

a hole and shove my face

in first

John glances back and says finally

“Hey, I’m sorry to… uh.. interrupt but I just wanted to say.. maybe take a breath??”

that’s very sweet but

breathing in is hard

with a mouth full of

dirt, John.

-Sheila C.

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anyway

I unhinged the cabinets

and left the doors

by the steps

i thought we could use them

to close up the holes

in the family room

my grief is hardened

and it’s “fuck all anyway”,

you said.

I can save the china

and take it with me

I guess

– sheila c.

baby

when you sprang forth from her

did you have any idea

that your embattled mass

would be the proud flesh

she would hold in her arms?

that your life

was tied to her life?

that her life

was your life ?

that she like our sisters

all bleed in their beds

because all of our beds

are the same

and we will always

bleed in them

some of us

more than others

but we will always bleed

in them

there is with your breath

a battle cry

one that she labored for

that she pushed out

for your strength

baby, you were not born

you were birthed

and so on

and so on

– Sheila C.

it’s a sin

it’s hot like a shed in the blurry sun
the steering wheel’s been hoarding
heat
ready for your soft skin
you’re so forgetful
but I appreciate the melancholic
nature
of the cache you’ve sown
into your chest
with a pounding fist and
pulpy pulmonary trunk

i like drops of bitters
in my whiskey lemonade
because I think it masks the
taste of alcohol
and I like the taste
but I do not like the taste
not the way I like the sauna
not the way I like being perched
on your lips
and being drowned
in your muck

– sheila c