Lyd Havens

Monostiches on Still Being Alive

Somewhere, there’s a choir singing for the first time. 

My best friend K always says it is helpful to keep going. 

I am speaking in both present and future tense all the time now.

Labor Day weekend: I was an adult jumping off the dock. 

I put cinnamon on my cereal every morning. 

I bruised my arm moving into my new apartment a few weeks ago.

The anniversary of my uncle’s suicide is September 12th. 

I think I’m getting used to hearing my name in other people’s mouths. 

Sometimes, it seems like the goosebumps are infinite. 

I thought about dying my hair teal last week. 

A few nights ago, my mother thanked me for asking her to get sober.

The sleeves of my favorite sweater are starting to fray. 

Green food coloring has been under my nails since Thursday. 

Yes, I’m still fascinated by bodies of water. 

These days, I’m trying to replace most of my apologies with gratitude.

The anniversary of my quitting self-harming is September 13th.

I left the bathroom door open, sang every word at the top of my lungs. 

Today I learned that my face is shaped like a heart.

If I ever have children, I’ll probably name them after my friends. 

The skin between my knuckles is softer than anything else.

Lyd Havens is a nationally touring poet and performer currently living in Boise, Idaho. Their work has previously been published in Winter Tangerine, Cosmonauts Avenue, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal, among others. They are the author of the chapbook I Gave Birth to All the Ghosts Here (Nostrovia! Press, 2018), and are currently working towards a BFA in Creative Writing at Boise State University. They were born on their due date, and have been intensely punctual to everything since.