The Interdisciplinary Work of Lyss Warmland.
The sky turned grey the day after
To match my head the day after
I lay on the table and
allowed myself to be at the mercy of
doctors and this body
The one that just seems to
Keep failing me
Betraying me
When all I want is to
do this thing I feel called to do
I-
Motherless child
I-
Childless mother
Felt grey the day after
Cervix still open
Another lifeless love
Lifted from my body.
We were young
I used to call you
During your breaks from
Work and beg you to
Send me sweet things
We were young and I
Wanted to believe in
Kisses on sidewalks while
Our favourite band played in
Someone’s parent’s garage in
Our hometown where we
Fell in love and I
Wanted to believe in
Demolition love and
Car crash endings where
People took photographs
We were young and you
Could never have known
That I was perfect for you.
If you don’t allow yourself
To sit with your grief
And to hold it with you
(Not forever, just for now)
It’s like taking a deep breath
And holding it
Until you suffocate your
Present self.
Maybe that’s the thing
About grief is it is something
Firmly situated in a painful
Present self.
And it may be more comfortable
To stay in the present with
The one I (past me)
Loved.
Because life without you,
Sometimes it seems like it echoes
Through dimensions beyond
My mortal comprehension
But my present self and I
Hold you deeply in
Every cell in my body
And that curve where my leg meets my hip
And the roots of Japanese Maple trees.
So maybe I don’t really need to be without you at all.
It was the hoodie that
Got me
The one with that band logo
The one that I lost long ago
On the greyhound bus to Toronto
On the way to see you.
It started
With my face in your face
Back before we made a life together
Made memories
Made plans.
And all this time later,
You still make me feel
Like blunts and tequila
And broken railings
And peach iced tea
And backstage wings
And home.
Nothing Exists. 