SARAH DESROSIERS-LEGAULT: I AM MADE OF THIS
I AM MADE OF THIS
After another one
dies, they'll tell me: don't
avoid being alive.
But - my body is worn
by
the in-between.
My
skin knows that cold place,
naked
on tiles, sticky and
dying.
When I am in rehab, I’ll
notice
more.
I’ll
see that mosquitos
under
blue light are
some
sort of magic. I can hear.
Gravity
makes noise when you
know
it’s there. Over the filling of the
mop
bucket I’ll tell you about the times
I
was molested. I’ll notice the brightness
of
the yellow and the muck in the places
muck
can build up.
Some
stars eat other stars, you know?
One
swells until it can
swallow
the other whole,
they
call it sharing.
A promise that hides what will
A promise that hides what will
explode
into black holes.
On good days
I'm okay with being alive,
I just want to do it drunk.
Sarah DesRosiers-Legault writes, works,studies and lives in Montreal. Her work has been published in Anti-Heroin Chic. On writing poetry, she says: For me poetry is an act of healing. Somehow it makes
saying the unsayable so much easier. Also, it is a way of eternalizing every thing or
person I have lost. I get to enter different elements of my own grieving that I
might not have even known to be there. This piece ("I Am Made of
This") was inspired by "The New Experience" by Suzanne
Buffam, which I read while I was feeling blocked--it immediately cured that. I can sometimes find it difficult to share
my poems, as they really are such personal parts of myself. I think what I’ve learnt as a poet is that I probably
just have to suck it up and put it out there.