You Ask Me What it Feels Like (sample)

You​ ​Ask​ ​Me​ ​What​ ​it​ ​Feels​ ​Like Chelsea​ ​Dautenhahn

dedicated​ ​to: cjf​ ​&​ ​meb

"Once,​ ​I​ ​saw​ ​a​ b ​ ee​ ​drown​ i ​ n​ ​honey,​ ​and​ ​I​ ​understood."

—​ N ​ IKOS​ ​KAZANTZAKIS,​ R ​ eport​ ​to​ G ​ reco

five​ ​stages​ ​of​ ​grief one​ ​day​ ​the​ ​seasons​ ​will​ ​split​ ​you​ ​raw your​ ​world​ ​will​ ​spill​ ​out​ ​from​ ​underneath​ ​you so​ ​forceful​ ​that​ ​you​ ​won’t​ ​even​ ​try​ ​to​ ​stable​ ​yourself one​ ​big​ ​wave,​ ​tsunami - loss you​ ​will​ ​call,​ ​write,​ ​whisper​ ​into​ ​the​ ​soil in​ ​hopes​ ​of​ ​it​ ​reaching​ ​them blame​ ​the​ ​tides,​ ​the​ ​moon,​ ​your​ ​sign,​ ​sick​ ​oak​ ​trees the​ ​pages​ ​will​ ​turn​ ​back - denial there​ ​will​ ​be​ ​flames,​ ​white-hot and​ ​some​ ​days​ ​you​ ​will​ ​not​ ​know​ ​who​ ​you​ ​are when​ ​you​ ​are​ ​not​ ​burning keep​ ​the​ ​rage​ ​tender - anger blow​ ​the​ ​dust​ ​off​ ​your​ ​bible call​ ​on​ ​god​ ​for​ ​the​ ​first​ ​time​ ​in​ ​years make​ ​empty​ ​promises​ ​in​ ​exchange​ ​to​ ​end​ ​the​ p ​ ain you​ ​will​ ​be​ ​a​ ​better​ ​person​ ​this​ ​year,​ ​you​ s ​ wear you​ ​will​ ​pray​ ​everyday,​ ​you​ ​swear​ ​to​ ​god just​ ​bring​ ​them​ ​back - bargaining no​ ​longer​ ​here​ ​but​ ​you​ ​have​ ​not​ ​left too​ ​heavy​ ​with​ ​decay​ ​to​ ​move when​ ​you​ ​finally​ ​get​ ​up​ ​it​ ​is​ ​not​ ​a​ ​funeral​ ​procession but​ ​it​ ​feels​ ​like​ ​one - depression leave​ ​behind​ ​all​ ​the​ ​deaths​ ​you​ ​have​ ​died do​ ​not​ ​dig​ ​up​ ​the​ ​dead they​ ​were​ ​not​ ​the​ ​sun,​ ​you​ ​do​ ​not​ ​need​ ​them​ ​to​ ​survive remember​ ​the​ ​season​ ​will​ ​come​ ​again,​ ​prepare - acceptance

trapped i​ ​find​ ​it​ ​quite​ ​difficult​ ​to​ ​know​ ​everything​ ​about​ ​myself my​ ​mind​ ​is​ ​constantly​ ​hiding​ ​things filling​ ​in​ ​reasoning​ ​compartments with​ ​irrational​ ​fears while​ ​keeping​ ​sensibility hand​ ​cuffed​ ​and​ ​locked​ ​away my​ ​throat​ ​is​ ​giving​ ​shelter​ ​to​ ​words​ ​i​ ​will​ ​never​ ​speak those​ ​words​ ​embed​ ​themselves into​ ​my​ ​every​ ​movement until​ ​every​ ​contour​ ​of​ ​my​ ​muscles become​ ​a​ ​cry​ ​for​ ​help

nectar i​​ ​know​ ​a​ ​boy​ ​like​ ​honey reflecting​ ​waves​ ​of​ ​amber​ ​all​ ​across​ ​my​ ​skin how​ ​did​ ​you​ ​manage​ ​to​ ​fit​ ​all​ ​that​ ​sweet into​ ​that​ ​small​ ​body​ ​without​ ​leaking​ ​out sweet​ ​as​ ​dewy​ ​eyelashes​ ​after​ ​prayer can​ ​you​ ​imagine​ ​if​ ​raindrops​ ​were​ ​made​ ​from​ ​rosewater? when​ ​i​ ​look​ ​at​ y ​ ou​ ​now​ ​i​ ​see​ ​a​ ​change​ ​in​ ​your​ ​face sweet​ ​boy​ ​made​ s ​ our honey​ ​hardens​ ​too and​ ​now​ ​i​ ​have​ ​scar​ ​tissue​ ​softer​ ​than​ ​you tell​ ​me​ t ​ hat​ y ​ ou’re​ ​trying​ t ​ o​ ​be​ ​gentle​ ​again tell​ ​me​ t ​ hat​ y ​ ou​ ​will​ ​soon​ m ​ elt​ ​back​ ​into​ ​that​ ​golden​ ​sticky sweet