November Nine

Why did I wait

till now,

till I'm watching in horror

as these hidden elements

of my Self

revolt, finally finding their voice

in dysfunction?

It's so clear now:

When this part wanted to cry

I smiled.

When this part flushed with desire

I stiffened my spine.

When this part sickened

I went to work.

When this part feared

I laughed.

When this part fumed for a listening ear

I shrugged and turned away.

How did we get here—

table stacked with empties,

screen full of porn,

anger so clear now

spread before us:

telling chunks of vomit, tea leaves

for yesterday?