you are running around in the dark and for my first workshop part 1

Graphic by Florence Yee

In her poetry, Kara Bowers explores themes of womanhood, healing, and coming of age, to name a few. Bowers is in her fourth year at Concordia University, where she studies Creative Writing and Studio Arts. She is from Toronto. This column was put together with the help of Annah-Lauren Bloom.

you are running around in the dark

i am hungry but also not

my therapist says “i know you hate confrontation”

i haven’t really thought about it

the clock on the kitchen stove is seven hours fast

i walk all the way

you are going to sleep to hide from a problem

i am staying awake beside windows

where dark presses in close

like bodies in a room in the middle of the night

i cross the street without looking

i ask if you saw me watching

you say no

inside of you it is me

i have pulled a muscle in my left thigh

walking in the fresh

my therapist says “anxiety is awareness”

i repeat this in the new city

in my urges to ravage my body

and to destroy its natural shape

something made me want to change

you feel like the blue and the green out the window in my parent’s house

i had so much more to say when i walked across that bridge every day

many strangers have been talking to me

we all wake up early when the sun comes in

will you sing me to sleep?

will you still love me even when i go away?

we stayed like that for months before i was swallowed up

i stayed in the mouth with an old woman

she said “i used to look just like you —

you remind me of my friend who died in the war”

for my first workshop part 1

i will not prune myself for you

i can’t sleep when i’m touching you

in the mornings i wake up with you

and i drink two

cups of water

i go right into the center

and i bite the pit

we move

closer together

i run into you

on the way

you shout whisper

my name

when you eat an apple

do you eat the whole thing?

i turn into an eggshell

i press my face into my knees

the message she sends says: i care

about you. i never stopped caring

i wash my hair

it is spilling out

i call the angels. another crisis without your voice

i sleep with the blinds open and i wake up every hour

each day i wear red for the fire power

there is so much more than just

seeing your name. the plants sing a song

to make us fall asleep i tell you about lying

underneath the flower blanket i tell you

about the book i’m reading i put

my face into bowls of salt and water

i will be safe with you

a piece of wire

breaks off my teeth and flies away

Graphic by Florence Yee

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