Five Poems by Kale Sastre

 

 

Obsolete l

 

I am a stone in a world of flesh 

I am the hole in your jacket 

That lets the cold air in 

I am a frayed cable that no longer holds a charge 

I am obsolete  

 

There is not enough of me left for you to recover 

So, throw me some change and keep walking by 

It's not the kind of change I really need 

But it'll be enough to fill my stomach 

 

I will hold tight to the cords that bind me  

I won't let you down by getting free 

My mouth gets dry from the gag 

But I can try to wet it with my tears 

 

As long as I keep my eyes closed 

I won't know things could be better 

But nothing I do will stop the voices coming in 

Nothing can turn off the screen of my memories 

 

I might be obsolete 

But I can't help but wonder 

If I got thrown away  

Too soon

 

 

Lemon Ginger Tea 

 

The burning in my mouth 

Feels like the fire you set in my life 

I taste tartness like your indifference 

The sun in the sky shines bright 

Like your ego which always eclipsed mine 

You spat me out 

Like I was something disgusting 

Rather than caressing me with your words 

Like you used to when I was hurt 

All it took was one day 

For us to be forever torn apart 

Like the skin falling off a baked potato 

Hot and empty 

Just like your words 

When they said you cared

 

 

Fire Insurance 

 

I baptize myself in tears  

There is no pastor here 

How could there be 

No one preaches once you're in Hell 

 

I hear a voice from far away 

Trying to call me back 

But it's been too late for years now 

And the voice is muffled by screams of agony 

 

People used to accuse me of faking my pain 

As if I wear this grimace for a fashion statement  

You can't fake loneliness 

Because no one is there to see it 

 

Dante made it out of hell 

But I've never been so bold 

There is no Beatrice to lead me on 

So, I am alone in the flames

 

 

Long Distance 

 

I hold you in the palm of my hand 

Even though you live across the world 

Sometimes I have to lean in to hear you 

But I never miss what you say 

 

I see you shaking and don't know if it's my hand or your heart 

I see you laughing and crying 

Two things that I find hard to do 

But for you they come so naturally 

 

When I drop you 

I pick you right back up 

Wishing I could pick up your heart 

The same way I pick up my phone 

But we can't do that 

So, we stare into each other's eyes 

With 16 hours between us 

Somehow, we found the right time

 

 

Head Weight

 

There's so much injustice in the world it literally hurts to hold it 

But setting it down feels worse 

So, I balance it on my head, teetering like those bundles women carry in lands far away 

Bundles of food and clothes and not dead and maimed Palestinian children and political prisoners who might be heroes 

But the weight sags my shoulders just the same 

And I wonder why I can't find a cure for my migraines 

While the weight pushes me 

Further and further 

Into the ground

Kale Sastre is many things including: a writer, an anthropologist, an activist, a volunteer, a translator, a Christian, a traveller, a researcher, and a friend. She is also: disabled, neurodivergent, chronically ill, and gender nonconforming. This makes an interesting mix sometimes, and when it does, she usually writes about it. You can find her writings for The Mighty at themighty.com/u/kale-sastre or follow her on social media @kalesastre. She also has a list of publications available at ksastre.wordpress.com.