i empty, i em p ty, i empty

e l e an o r jo h n sto n- c a r te r
i d on ’ t k n o w i f t hi s i s h o ne st y
and if this doesn't end where does it go

here at beginning and seeing ending and waking up crying unable to turn down volume like
memory of old remote and curved tv and small body with chest pressed to carpet how far i’ve
come equivalent position only inverted back pressed to hardwood floating separate unsure of
return’s date or time only of not quite successful tamping down like cotton ball in unopened
bottle of ibuprofen before seal ripped through in darkness after standing in kitchen water
boiling light on before arrival and after too permanent as words carved into wood of closet
door there forever until met by scraping of some sharp edge

if th e s e a re l ies the y are w h a t i c u rre n t l y b e l i e v e

there and then nothing

out of my hands now i will follow the pattern already set

the edges and the black envelopment of vision upon rising from blue morning light

missed alarms

untethered lost looking in any direction

just moving through it

floating aimless not through water but mud

unknown form emerging from mist

history recorded in my own hand by hand no longer mine

the haze of patterns not mine but me repeated and repeated and repeat

loose t shirts socks and sheets i put off washing

i understand now what he insisted then

the impossible task of shedding skin

energy connected every window’s outlined view

the negative space not negative a wave a realization my own body

lying at the bottom of the stream past present imagined future

this not dream but vision

a preview of what comes next


living within

it begins to resemble graveyard

craneflies dotting walls and windowsills

imagined flinching becoming real as it is imagined

shrieking heard through cell network

drowning among associations

small body sugar water

light and limbs and punctuated quiet

infrequent emptiness

all compressed now

infinite mass impossible to organize

half formed feelings deja vu scent memories

catching glimpses drawing the circle

salt and spirit

sweetness of honeycomb

contraction of basalt columns

it becomes a part of you or you a part of it

it is not external even if it is not remembered

early days

body pressed to exact square of cement carried by pulsating warmth of reflection

gift continuously given or giving a circadian rhythm two decades inside of this

ignoring morning diverging from mode

moment just before beginning if considering world after or ending if considering world before

imagined color of emerged light unknown but known by extrapolation

specificity of month in place forgotten then remembered with uncharacteristic consistency

curled into position assumed now seeking safety against knowledge of forgetting

acceptance of monumental shifts described without experience without language of touch

home birthplace birthright


int. kitchen - morning

standing in what feels like the center the place where gravity pulls back to the light on like
always two days shy of twenty years since the day with the wind in the stove and the final nail
in the fence and the details she tells me that cannot be true but are true regardless the time
change and the early evening and the way these become touchstones for a memory i don't
remember but can still place myself inside all parts and players familiar enough to construct the
scene in my mind only sound is missing only suitable pain available to import comes later not
at birth but death before rebirth before great shift once seen as crashing down now seen as
cleansing wind standing here and thinking this the light comes white through the window and
the light shines yellow on the floor i have never known safety but here it is the seventh member
of the family no longer family the hyphen between last names the cement slab beneath us
unmoved after all this time holding us here all of it perfectly still

i’ll see you when i see you

i’m a survivor

comforting himself

my immediate thought held quiet

inverse seen from outside perspective

maybe not exact but certainly not far enough

are you okay?

question in abstract does he expect answer

do i offer truth

not here on broad waiting for the light

continuing the cycle we are locked in

i abandoned you
eyes shrink behind glass

most obvious genetic resemblance

round of blue placed too far back

partially hidden brow bone and surrounding socket

it’s not failure at, it’s failure to

it feels good to feel detached

to be the one leaning back in the chair

contemplate spilling all secrets he continues to speak

failed attempt to absolve to leave him free from grief

we don’t have to talk about this

this is how it goes this is how it is

he cries i am making him cry

later walking into the sun

door closed but not forgotten

anastasis

among the headless soldiers we stare into mirrors repetition of familiar conversation now with
unknown ending i’ve calculated possible outcomes found path with least pain lies in
technicality no place at table set for honesty occupying opposite sides of the world it is only
after that i think to wonder if he is kneeling through ringing ears i remember the ring on the
keys in the pocket with loose change and will this too follow pattern set but despite similarity
there is no symmetry prefix attached to word i will only ever use in abstract simplifying complex
concept she is not her he is not me among the individual faces i again try to absolve from guilt
despite what i know is coming lacquer flaking history repeating this time i am entombed no
longer here to witness crying

conceptual core

spring’s pounding to be let out heat building under pale dome physical shift of air and light and
wind rattling doors spirits in mirrors all known by name ghosts in the car us in memory only all
of this on the day i wake singing hymns like connective tissue cut through revealing
coordinated movements of visions in vision a message in the pulse and the sound beneath the
ring that recedes becoming small with closed eyes grown accustomed to this body floating
alone knowledge of empty filled with comfort a light in the distance the smell of the soap

i will never capture it because i will never see it

space between reflecting light no longer too bright i build panic or it builds within me it always
starts tomorrow it is perpetually evening there is a disconnect between what she knows and
what i am not telling there is safety in this pattern speaking around the extra chairs in the room
i have always been practicing the horseshoe feeling knowing no one is listening i learned how
to observe without speaking speak without revealing exist without existing

absorbed into this

smoke’s eventual clearing reveals frozen moment preserved glass and screen poetic applause
producing only muffled ring the memory of pain caught between curled inside self created
crawl space the moment of resistance creating the moment of panic moving backwards faded
bruise like faded bruise like evidence of victimless crime spinning inside the circle doubling and
doubling and the need to be the slate wiped completely clean

does the world really need another still life?

i’ve watched the walls turn from blue to pink the slow shift along the color gradient as the body
falls in and out of stasis existing beautiful in outline i’ve seen the cycle now locked in the
necessity of turning to face darkness coupled with fear that eyes turned black will never again
see light i’ve counted the seconds between falling and landing the approximate distance to be
traveled before reaching something solid before finding someplace to rest before eventual
journey back i’ve buried the bodies like sand crabs the old catch and release and small
wriggling to be set free i’ve seen all this in the white as the light rises moving away from safety
of dawn towards illumination of sharp objects simultaneously dull like cutting with the back of
the blade nothing created moment goes nowhere and nothing changes i’ve held this in hands
stained red with dust i’ve looked and i’ve looked away

beauty is in the eye when you hold her

vision loses focus the bird on the wire the place where things come together connections
drawn without control the body in the crack the owl in the distance silent memory of grass like
waves sheets like ghost words now forgotten white against brown against green sky turns
towards familiar dark and later familiar light the feeling of the blessing remembered even
breathing responds to question whispered into empty room entire worlds between not just wall
cold hair faded outline in warm glow pushing thought pushed away fundamental blindness
despite seeing precision of action wheat against teeth white against gum pulse taken in
darkness callouses mapped into memory assuming familiar positions everything slips back into
spots left open still pulsing in hallucination’s vision

comedown

we disappeared into ocean and asphalt and past

quiet so long it became forever

lit only by soft glow of impermanent

truth indistinguishable against sky gone grey

held in decision too tired to continue

headlights cut through realization

certainty now past tense

this another memory one day no longer remembered

the week passes like forever

amphetamine fills concavity a fist clenching tightly

scraping against soft palate sun bleached bones picked clean

blurred line between dehydration and real loss

hallucination and desire for someone else in the room

sirens in distance water runs with curtain open

circling endless attempts at obscured reflection

all this known with no supporting evidence

like cloud cover an inability to pinpoint exact shift

dreams standing above me

memory of silence without remembrance of words unsaid

but familiarity of feeling overwhelming

still lacking given name

pleiotropy

the summer of dissociative dream

want for synchronicity so desperate i missed reflection in peripheral vision

where were you while i was caught in projection

working and reworking noise and feeling

so much pushed out by consumption

night remaining only as static outline of tossing and turning

half dreams about the feeling like dying


looking at what will absorb you

movement of or behind all of this outline

where vision goes square silhouetted

internal language learned at birth

remembered now in phrases without direct translation

precision of involuntary gestures

shut eyes and keep shutting

i never get it right

nothing whole always half formed

known and named static weight without motion

distant siren heart palpitation

fist clenching tightly in or around


it wasn’t one

the whole year in silence aside from the low rumble of thunder off somewhere in the distance
and when i finally raised my hand to speak? someone else’s truth projected into my mouth like
the days in the room with the window and the corner i found myself backed into

exhilarating stillness

strange coolness half formed want

season of stagnation

hands in throat

apprehension lacking proof

something rattles loose

liquefaction

blue carpet emergency light

this alone allowed touch

conjured ghost catching reflection

half second before i will remember

shifting slightly sweating sleep


we won’t talk about it to anyone else

one feeling over and over

your face before waking

in the too small bed

never clean enough

all this once called love


tunnel vision

familiar light underground evening in close proximity old wish for overcoming gap for pushing
and shoving to become infinite tightness all the way up there light like old guitar when we arrive
recall of hypnotic effect fingering contours of bones overwhelming need for sleep and later i will
ask you and i have already burned something down but even in revealing i am still able to
conceal full extent under excess fabric with center console between us and body gone numb i
speak without mapping repercussion without considering length of respective forevers staring
out or staring at you memory existing in reflected light all attempts to explain from passenger
perspective fail completely even in giving up you are the only person i have begun to let in

i do not say it but eventually this is what i mean: i have known you before i will know you again

broken anywhere: everywhere

cellular senescence

last words gone unremembered

an entire body

and the pain as water meets it