#ArtsakhPoemsOnHPem | 'A story in twelve parts' by Melineh Yemenidjian

A story in twelve parts

I did not tell you
How the stars
Watched the night 
My shadow ran away

I did not tell you
That it leapt over
Precipice and rolled
Into ravine
Much like I did
Down grassy hill—
Eight years old
In a white dress

I did not tell you
That I do not know
Where I placed
My childhood—
The only evidence
On strips of brown film

I did not tell you
They crafted me into
An empty vase
Displayed from
One coffee table
To the next

I did not tell you
As I stood illuminated
On a stage 
How the chorus of
Hallelujah rumbled
In my gut 

I did not tell you
My voice grew rusted—
Caught between
Hard, dissonant riffs

I did not tell you
That transition
To greener pastures
Plunged me into a well

I did not tell you
The rope burned
My hands as
I pulled myself out 

I did not tell you
Poems ignited desire 
Like flint against steel—
Licked by flame
Little bursts of pain

I did not tell you
How pages beginning with
“I think I’m going crazy”
Curled at the edges
And turned to ash

I did not tell you
I needed a salve
To soothe 
Peeling layers
Of skin

I did not tell you
Blinding light rolled
Into shifting darkness 
Crest over wave
Then blanketed
My toes as I dug
Them in cool sand

Read Yemenidjian's "Artsakh, ourselves" “I am,” “Equ-I-pose,” “Lady Libertine,” “How to trap a butterfly,” “Religion at Armenian school,” and “Paris, 2011.”