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lyrics

On the day I was born,
I was lined up with all the other broken matchsticks.
My parents waited for them to mend their shifty handiwork.
They convinced each other that they deserved every breath
they pushed into each other’s lungs.
The silence fogged the windows of our matchbox hospital.
It was only broken by the noises
of beeping machine and rushing bodies as
they lit my flame.
They shocked my tiny frame back to life.
The day I started burning my stars spelled out
that I’d always be afraid of burning to my end.
I was given a name that means youth.
How fitting for me to fear all other options.

Sometimes I still feel like a broken matchstick in that hospital
because my lungs are too small for the rest of me.
I can never suck in enough air to blow up these
popped balloons laying limp in my chest.
My body works like a compass.
It has always pointed me in the direction of the cleanest air.
It pulls me,
guiding me only to places where I can expand my lungs fully.
I hope the needle never breaks
because it has been sending me straight into your arms.
With our hands intertwined I take breaths as wide as oceans.
When you’re not here, I can still taste saltwater.
I still pull pieces of you out of my every thought.

I have electricity pulsing through my fingertips
reminding me that my heart is still beating.
I shock myself, having resurrections in your arms every night.
You always know how to light my broken matches.
You’re here to blow air into my lungs.
When I’m with you I realize that my heart is still beating.
I understand that I am just a machine full of pieces
that have never worked quite right.
I’m grateful to know good mechanics.

I breathe in your arms, expanding my lungs.
Rhythmic and calm, pulsing waves onto your chest.
When I breathe freely enough to remember,
I will tell you
my fingers wait to pull poems out of the goose bumps lining your pale skin,
I feel my heart pound heavy against my bird cage ribs when you touch me,
and I fall more in love with you with each shallow breath.

credits

from Accepting the Facts, released November 1, 2013

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Julia Alexander Connecticut

I'm a part time poet and a full time cry baby. If you get too close to me, I'll write a really emotionally confusing poem about you. It'll be exhausting for both of us.

To contact Julia for inquires of all sorts e-mail juliaalexanderpoetry@gmail.com
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