bandages; the airplane by Miguel Rodriguez Otero

bandages

i don’t want to collapse in front of you

don’t want you to see me like that

otherwise you would know

i mean

you would really know

that i am so broken

that i am trying so

so hard

and still am so damaged

so i hide under the covers

and break at night

i shout when i hear

the creaks in the house

i think the floor is crumbling down

scared that other parts of me

should also fail

my body tries to communicate

with the creaks

with you

beyond what is broken

so i look for a magical phrase

a healing refrain

like the ones i sang when i was a kid

and the creaks were too real

some kind of bandage

that would stop the bleeding

a little closure

i don’t know why i break like this

i try here and there

say stupid shit at inconvenient times

tentative whether that would do the trick

but none of the phrases properly

cover the wound

they fail to adhere to the skin and easily fall off

i bleed pain and unattended dialogues

it is always a new wound

in the same places

the storm batters the roof

and i get up from under the covers

my veins leave a trail of conversations

as i walk outside

into the other storm

and sing

the airplane

dad and little me head back home

with a load of lumber for the stove

he’ll push the wagon and i

spread my arms wide apart

past one of the sides to fulfill my duty

my mission of custody over the cargo

so any stick that falls off with the rumble

i’ll spiral down and grab it

i am a monoplane swirling around the cart

and the lives of my family

dad laughs and i fly

it’s a long way to go

before we learn about stage four

then it all happens very quickly

the mutation hits

we take him in for chemo

he and mom die before you can tell

it’s for real

and i do what i’ve learned to do

in a case like this

i leave

i estrange my folks

get some ink

a little time away and an overdose

in a small town in New England

i run away to rescue the sticks

the missing parts of me that have fallen

with the rumble

you are waiting for me at the arrivals gate

and somehow think i am a hero

we overhear calls for departure as we hug

our bodies now

a full-grown biplane