About this episode
Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram. The House with My Name Carved Into Its TeethTess EzzyExecutive dysfunctionis a kind of hauntingbut not the pretty kind,not the candlelit ghost girlfloating through the hallway.No.This thing is a beastwith my name carvedinto its teeth.Every morning I waketo a body that forgets me.A body that misplaces its own pulse.A body that drops intentionlike a strip of clothingbefore the lover even arrives.My hands—god, my hands—they go spectral on me.I reach for the taskand the task slips throughlike a secret I’m not trusted with.I reach for the dayand the day folds shutlike a trapdoorand I fall through myselfagainagainagain.People sayJust start.As if I am not wrestling a monsterin the foyer of my own life.As if the staircaseis not rearranging itselfthe moment I look away.As if time hasn’t been taunting melike a cruel exwho knows exactlywhere my soft skin lives.My to-do listis a fucked-up funhouse mirror.Every item shows methe version of meI should have been by now.I stare at her—mouth full of apology,spine full of fire—and I want herjust onceto step out of the mirrorand stop pretendingshe’s possible.I lose hours like loversI was too wild to keep.I lose whole afternoonsthe way some peoplelose religion.Sudden.
