screaming from my electrons
i wake up from dissociation
into sleep paralisis of brain
fingers sweat into linen black sheets
eyes that can’t blink stare
at blank counting the ceiling
the sun rises and sets and my
throat is closed shut but every
electron inside me screams
i have many brothers and sisters
in my cells 99% of my mass made
up of
oxygen
carbon
hydrogen
nitrogen
calcium
each one pregnant with its
children and parents
protons
electrons
neutrons
voices with undeveloped tongues
in undeveloped mouths speaking
undeveloped languages
i look up. single point on the
office speckled white ceiling
single point like single
cluster of stars: focus on it
count up by 2, 4, 6, all
through times tables numbers:
a language of pattern to paralize
language, my name
i am a language
είμαι μια γλώσσα
my name, both
το όνομά μου είναι και
a caress and a song
χαϊδή
a caress and a song
ένα χάδι και ένα τραγουδάκι
different only in accent
i grab onto the nightstand
to get up, my hands shake
pouring too many from
two bottles my meds
150mg sertraline
75mg wellbutrin
my skin is tearing all of
my cells are giving birth
until i fall back onto the bed
i was born unable to speak
english or greek a wavicle
wavering precipitously
around a magnetic core
of systemic expectation
now my tongue flicks
this way and that to speak
family; friends; americans;
greeks but always greek
always with the wrong accent
do my electrons scream?
are they the second generation
am i negatively charged
always between the borders
ungendered to identify
unhearable to scream
unseeable to i’s
to be a part(icle)(icular)(ial) person
to dissociate into a wave
an existence that breathes
but never on the right plane
sometimes when i wake up
to sleeping, dimmed colors
i wonder
should i acquire a positive
charge and higgs myself into
a larger mass?
created, destroyed, created,
always screaming, never being
what would it take to scream;
to hear a song
and to exist in the world;
to feel a caress
to be a particle and a wave
finally, wake up
— may 2022, oakland, ca
