self-imposed objectification, by Caseyrenée Lopez

Caseyrenée Lopez is an editor, educator, and poet. Their debut full-length collection, i was born dead, is forthcoming from ELJ Editions in 2018. Follow them on Twitter @caseyreneelopez.


[when holding the mirror up to my nose reveals the double sided glass]

i.
the flowers aren’t living / in the vase / the grass
isn’t greener / in my mouth / my happiness is /
claustrophobic / my truth isn’t / what i want it to be

ii.
food isn’t sating my hunger / water isn’t quenching
my thirst / my body isn’t 100% / (it’s never been) /
i was born dead / but i’ve never been more alive


history repeating

we listened to the rain / that night / (or was it
day) / each drop lauded us / saviors / until we
cried / red faced / hysterical / we choked on
the pain / of hysteria / opened up the root / of
the word / the misogynist foundation of uterine
body betrayal / we thought about hypatia / the
mathematical greek goddess / a murdered genius /
a burning star / no one noticed / the rain drowned
our tears / the clouds covered / our shame / our
public outburst


[when the bleeding won’t stop]

when the bleeding won’t stop / (again) /
& “hysterectomy” is flashing / in my
head / (again) / a caution light / a
warning sign / a faulty body / it might be
real / (this time) / i’ll give birth / a sick
litter of protein rich blood clots
//
when the polyps won’t cease / (again) /
& “d & c” is coming my way / in my head
/ (again) / i’m mad max / strapped to the
hood of a car / racing full speed / dirty
mouthed / fingertips soaked in blood /
to a finish line / with no prize
//
when the surgeries won’t cure / (again) /
& “no baby for you” leaves the doctor’s
mouth / i’ll know / (fersure) / natural
parenthood has slipped away / over the
horizon / across the gulf of mexico / my
queer body is flawed / my faked
motherhood is / dead


[i don’t trust the sky]

i don’t trust the sky
it’s always holding me down
i ask myself if my is body real
everyday—i can never tell

the sky is often blue
                    it laughs at me
dreary eyed and lonely
physics has come a long way
re: how we understand
the universe
but i still can’t trust a black hole

by black hole i mean myself
by physics i mean you
okay that was a lie
but i know the sky is never blue
          the sun is just a good liar

maybe i’m the sun (liar)
i often feel like walking
into the mist of my perfume
and calling it a cloud


self-imposed objectification

i want to be your distraction /
if it means your fingers pressed
against my lips / resting / or
buzzing / i’m a fly with broken
wings caught in crystalized honey /
sweet amber / if it meant your
mouth on my mouth / i’d happily
give birth to a new world / be a
queen at your feet