to a man i haven't met

If I could sleep with one eye open I would
Just to see your face all night
That would be the only dream I’d ever need.

late night recollections (to you with the spotted face)

when i'd like to pass the time i recall that you might have 162 specks of black diamonds somewhere between nook and cranny of your left and right ears
and then i remember how i used to tell you god blew kisses all over your face just for me to count for the remainder of my lifetime
that it was exactly how i'd like to spend the rest of my lifetime
but often now i am lonely
so i sometimes recount the freckles on your face
just to remember the person i once was
because i left everything good i once was encased in a shell that is you
and because you've been gone so long
and because i've been gone so long
and i can't quite recall sometimes whether it was 162 or 126 specks of black diamonds scattered atop your skin
i summon your face in archive of memories just to remember that i felt alive once
and that i can feel alive once again.

i was told to journal (but i can only write poems)

because its late
because i promised her i'd write something
because i'm floating
because i don't know how to feel
because not knowing how to feel is disastrous
because i believed her when she told me we can try to change things
because i want to change
because i want more
because i don't think i deserve more
because i feel left
behind
abandoned
swept under moldy rugs
because it's too late to salvage some things
but i'd like it if i were able to salvage the others
some sense of grounding is better than none at all
i came to her for anchors
i've wished for anchors all my life

we talked about the roots of trees
and she asked me how i felt
and because i'm inarticulate about my feelings these days
i folded and spoke and folded some more
i am origami, always have been always will be
folding

because the lady in the black turtleneck with the yellow skin and sunny eyes told me that things can change
because her words were lovely when she spoke though she mostly listened
because the room was tiny and brown and gray and the walls seemed to be closing in on me
because i realized i couldn't look at her much when i spoke
because i couldn't run away
because i tend to laugh and smile when i talk about ugly
because she didn't find me odd
because i spent the whole time speaking and folding the edges of the corners of papers
because i cried once in the middle of a sentence
about my mother and how she never seems to love me
because i never say that outloud to anyone who doesnt know me
because lying to strangers is hard
because i talk too much but learn too little
because i'm tired of being abandoned
but mostly because i'm tired of abandoning myself

i folded memories at the corners
made them into paper planes
sent them off into the blackened sky
hoping they wouldnt return
now they are being aimed back at me
but this time they are bullets demanding flesh
but i chose this
i'm guessing a massacre could result in a rebirth
i am only hoping

she asked me how i deal with things i said i wasn't sure
but now i realize all i ever do is write and feel and rummage for answers in dark corners
and stay awake when i'm supposed to be sleeping
and think too much
and maybe now i realize i need to talk

On the way home (freewrite on the bus where we met)

I don’t ask much of men anymore its not in my nature
Eventually hope catches fire mid thrust
And all bets are off I’ve learned to minimize the impact of these kinds of collisions

Collisions like
Broken boys thinking their power is at the tip of premature manhood
When they crash into lusty girls willing to cash in their innocence for a place in a sexual world

I needed gratification
I found none
All I have is canyons
Between thighs
My heart will be leaking forever
I’m certain

Tires skid across heart
Teeth press down on tongue
I can’t remember how to speak
Everything I used to know
I’ve forgotten
Memories are fickle as the odds of you staying
You never stayed
You’d always leave

I know my body will repair
But when will my mind?

Silence

You were weeping willows
Swallowing up every bit of sunshine
Innocence
Everything I once thought I had
I didn’t look into your eyes those nights
Or maybe I did
I just prefer to not remember

My lips were earthquakes
Moans echoing inside glacial caves
But you were silence
I never thought I’d fear silence as much as I do now

There was just fingers
And clocks
And ticking
And bewilderment
And sweat
And wagging tongues
And empty heartbeats full of longing
We echoed all night
Just empty vessels

I wanted you in my heart
You ended up in my skin
On top my sheets
Everywhere I didn’t need you

Can I have more than silence?

Can I be beautiful enough to make someone stay
Even if it isn’t you.

the mornings after

empty sex is barren abandon
collapsing onto inflamed bedsheets
spurts of passion searching for a steady target.

empty sex can not fill vacant eyes
bleeding hearts
jagged shreds of tears
or pieces of you peeling off the sides of stray bullets you've dislodged from your heart.

empty sex is where
thighs echo
and spines shatter
and sweat
sticks
stains
splits
into a million pieces
and pours into pores.

empty sex is nothing but prayers
prayers only the body can conjure
a plea for love crawling out the pit of your soul
an exchange between vacant tombs
the deepest cry for help.

to the man at my door

If you only knew
I write every poem about you
About us.
Like your black skin
Tumbling onto my brown.

Don’t you notice how I swallow you up with my eyes
And how I love how your upper lip feels
In between my teeth
Or the strength
Trapped in between your clenched fist
Or beneath your silent gaze.

I’ve collected every inch of you.
Trapped them in a box which is my mind.
I refuse to share.
I am a box
Folding up inside of myself
Despite of myself.
I feel so small in your arms.

You are king.
I will be queen.
You just don’t it yet.
I don’t think you’ll know it.

Yet.

I am so afraid of sharing secrets.
Please keep mine forever.
Please keep me forever.

Tonight.
Always.
Come inside.
Stay here.

what i write on post-it notes

Love is daggers dangling off the roof of your mouth.
My heart is barren and bloody.

I folded up my soul last night,
stuffed it into an envelope mailed it to you.
Scorn is best served cold.
I’ll send my hate express mail.

Remember when my eyes smiled?
I do.
I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t afraid of the words of a beautiful man.
Someone reclaim my joy.

hello, again.

I wake up with these feelings, crushing me
You are atop my eye lashes,
inside my skull,
at the foot of my bed.

Something like love, no less than madness.
I knew you would find me eventually.
Again.

Drag your teeth down the pole of my spine.
My body is wrapped in bricks, I am heavy.
How did you find me?
I’ve spent so long hiding from you.
My efforts were useless.

You are unraveling at my feet, crawling out of the pit of my stomach, shooting out of my pores.
The armor was not enough.
I am unprotected.

water

ice melting onto concrete
tears scouring for fingers
to wipe them away if they’d ever come
i don’t smile all the time
but i never cry

river searching for ocean
stars exploding in silence
when i die no one will hear my last breath
echoing in the cave of rotting corpses which is my body
all i have is dead loves festering within me

beauty is subjective
and so is love

i wonder if i’ll be remembered
like i remembered all of you

ice melting onto concrete
water searching for soil to be reborn again
that is all i am
a dead flower wedged in between graves

a love letter that will never be sent

I felt you in the center of my light. You were neurons at the tip of my tongue, electricity crawling beneath epidermis. I felt you everyday. I still do. Lightning you are jolting through rubble, filth, all we’ve amounted to. You’re the dust of rain clouds that rebuilds my soil. Stardust. When I’m ravaged, dying in the arms of loveless men I think of who you once were.

laughter in old levis

I left my morals tucked in between the pages of the bible my grandmother gave to me this morning. I do that every day actually, I can’t help it. I don’t do it purposely, it just sort of happens. Every day before I get dressed I count the sweat stains on my t-shirt from the drops of sweat swollen with lust that edged down my back while he handled me. Then I count all the holes he punched into my heart too and try to figure out why he stuffs them with lies as if that’s suffice.

He hides around the corner from my bedroom every time he leaves to see if I’ll come out after him, I do, always. I am attached, I am stuck, I am pieces glued together in the shape of a woman, that is all I have ever been.

“Hold me… Tell me sweet things…” I say, caressing his beautiful, dark, brown face.

“Dude” he says. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know the difference between fantasy and reality? That’s what a boyfriend would do, and I am not your boyfriend.”

His facial expressions are pained; he is annoyed, confused, and mostly burdened. He wants to leave; I tend to give him sufficient reasons to want to. I want to be honest and tell him, yes, I live in a fantasy world, always, but I don’t, I just laugh. All I can do is laugh at myself. I am a joke, that is all I have ever been.

thirsty fingers

i figure my body is a pyramid of vowels
searching for a voice
or a pen
or a tablet
or a microphone
or a stage
or a man
to project it's pain onto

i climb atop the laps of men
press my lips against thick skin
trying to capture resilience on the cusps of their lips
i want to be hardened
but i am just soft
putty melting onto concrete
burning beneath sun

i want to write tragedies onto his tongue
stuff my internal conflicts down his throat
rid myself of myself
just remember me when i am gone
that is all i demand

tuck my ashes in between the pages of my dairies
burn them in a pit
send him the remains

i don't want to be forgotten

all i have is syllables
and words
and feelings
and notebooks
and incomplete thoughts
and a bloody heart
and tired fingers
and a thirsty soul

can i curl up and live inside of you forever?
that is the only place i've ever felt safe

if you'd like to find me you can look in the cracks of his skin
on his bottom lip
buried beneath silent thoughts and saliva
wedged in between his brain and skull
leaking out of his nose
bloody

to the boy on the other side of my pillow

i trip over my thoughts in silent places
you poke out of cracks in concrete illusions
air creeps beneath my nail beds
where you skin is

i want to find you in my sheets

but all i have is letters
and photos
and moans
and touches
and deteriorating thoughts
and your tongue tied in a knot
neatly stuffed into my heart
and in less innocent spaces

one night was enough
to strangle me with feelings

thank you for making me feel once more
however good
however bad
i am numb no longer
sensous rapture
blossoms within me

thank
you

a ghetto girl's questions (12/30)

Does thugs mansion have room for ghetto girls too
With thick lips
Thick hips
And even thicker skin
With shotgun tongues laced with arsine

We are taught to retaliate
Like hardened soldiers
But all we want to do is love our soldiers
And teach them how to love us back

We are told that we are venomous like snakes
That girl is poison
BBD
But really we are only angels slithering about concrete
Trying to find cracks to curl up in
Trying to find cracks to plant roots in
We don't want our seeds to
Die

I don't want to die like this

Homicide
Suicide
Genocide
They are all the same

When I die can I go to thugs mansion too?

there's a man in my pants (11/30)

you are everywhere

beneath my fingernails
in the hairs of my eyebrows
but mostly on the thin flesh behind my knees
you liked to kiss that spot
but someone would most likely find you in my jeans
searching for something i guess you never found
because you left me

your tongue is sewed onto
the
low
part
of
my
back
where noone is supposed to see
i let you see it
now it's not a secret
i have no more secrets
you took them all
and stuffed them into the backpocket of your levis


alone
you left me
zipping your pants
you didn't even hold my hand
tugging at denim
i tried to get them up my thighs
you left me
i tried to catch up with you
i tripped over my untied shoelaces
i wore nikes that day
i never wear sneakers
i couldn't find my panties
i left my heart in your sheets
and my tears on your pillow
are they still there?

you left me

you saw me crying
i'm always crying
i wonder if you'll always be there
in the rims of my eyelids
or in the zipper of my cut-off shorts
the ones you liked to slip your fingers beneath
you told me i was warm

you lied
i am cold

my grandmother has heart-attacks (10/30)

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
As She struggles to the door
Her heavy fingers rummage for doorknobs
Her American flag blows proudly on the other side of the door
Her health has gone with the wind like Margaret Mitchell

Her health has gone down the drain with the American health care system
If there ever was such a thing

She cannot see a thing
There is no one home
Who will save her?
It won’t be Uncle Sam or Nancy Pelosi
So why does she pay so much taxes?

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
As Life sprawls across white tiles onto the kitchen floor right before her tiny blood bead eyes
As Tears spring from sockets like Hiroshima rockets
She cries political cries

Devil pulls heart into throat then swings life above head like pendulums
She cannot afford life so she bargains with death
Too many brushes with death
She’s had
every week at the Walgreens pharmaceutical counter
Do I choose rent or hypertension pills
That is the question

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
As Horsepower heartbeats ride her into purgatory
As Her heart gnaws at her insides
All she feels is the shallow tunnel of death collapsing onto her American Dreams
In God we trust will be etched onto her dilated pupils

God wants to take her back
And America too
He can feel their heart beat through the flesh on the palm of his hands
He is calling her
He is calling them
But she refuses to let go of everything she’s ever believed in
She held on to see this bill pass

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
And it’s deafening heart murmur that somehow strikes fear into the hearts of every other developed nation on the globe who ironically all have national healthcare systems
Why should they be afraid of us when we’re all just busy dying
In million dollar hospital beds
While we watch house
Ironic huh

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
After her third heart attack
She could never afford her heart pills
And neither could the US govt.
She held on to see this bill pass
Along with the 46 million American people who were uninsured last year
all the people with “pre-existing” conditions like AIDS, cancer, and heart disease
Who were denied healthcare, legally
For the people by the people my ass
That is until now

God Bless America, Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi,
the 18,000 people who’ve died annually because they couldn’t afford healthcare in their own country
A nation who’d rather fund cover ups than health centers

There is a beam of hope
Finally

God Bless my grandmother
She still believes in America
No wonder why she’s had three heart attacks

I’ve only ever seen god in a poem (9/30)

Poems don’t last long enough for me
So I try to make them run on
I am nothing but a run on
Sentence
Searching for a period to put an end to all these open ended questions

I have no subject
No predicate
No verb
I am nothing but a question mark
Standing before god
Quivering
Broken into pieces
Speaking in tongues
Hang me upside down
And I dangle out the corner of his mouth by the hook of a comma
Deprived of structure
I am nothing but a fragmented sentence my innards scattered about the universe

I know you can you hear me tiptoeing across ugly adjectives beautifully as I fondle in darkness trying to find pieces of myself within silent suicidal stanzas that never seem speak back to me
They are just like you

I am trying to get to you
Can I join you?
I just want to be close to you
Wherever you are
But I think you’re mostly likely at the tip of my pen
Or the gravity that smashes my words against blank spaces
Because I’ve only ever seen, heard, touched, tasted, or felt you in a poem

And that’s why I keep writing them
Poems send me to heaven
Each and everytime
I swear they do

I try to write my poems with the least amount of punctuation and as many words as I can push out of the womb of my imagination
Because I truly believe that one day I will cork up all my nothingness with frozen stanzas pregnant with the volume of those words
They will help me inflate and float into the palms of your hands
You will hug me atop floating stanzas
I will clog up the bullet holes in my heart with all these leftover commas
Before I bleed onto the pages of this notebook
I am the pages of this notebook
I will be happy

You will hear these poems scream
Even if I don’t say a word before I die
They will speak for me.

I hope my words have enough buoyancy to deliver me to you when there aren’t any more words left and all I can do is scribble a period onto the end of my sentence
My journey will be over then
And this you will know.

gendercide (8/30)

i am nothing but a girl
my lifeless femininity dangling
over the side of China
like mother's chandelier pearl earring
atop 160 million graves
bury me because i lack testosterone
because i was born wrong
bury me
bury me
bury me
bury me

i am already dead

in tea leaves (7/30)

I sipped on mint tea as the sun hiccuped daylight
You were at the edge of my mug like lipstick
But I never wear lipstick so you probably weren't there

Actually

I think I found you in tea leaves
Sticking to the bottom of china like India
You are my favorite spice
I paid Columbus to find you.

i'm sorry everyday (6/30)

Guilt is boulders
Dark,
Heavy,
Hazardous,
Somewhere between my
Inner thighs
Self esteem
First and last name

Guilt is boulders
Pummeling tight, innocent hard to reach places
Stuffed into every vowel escaping my lips
Tongue
Teeth
Gums
Throat
Mouth

Guilt is boulders
At the edge
Of the cliff
Of my mind

I used to be light
Now I’m heavy like eyelids chasing the coattails of dawn

Guilt is boulders
Atop my spine
In my head
In my mind
My spine is shattered
A heavy conscious is painful to carry on raw, bare, shoulders

I want to be a feather once more.

i hate mornings (5/30)

Truth came like night
A cloud over morning
I hate the way it does this

I hate the way mornings makes me remember
Everything I wish I could forget
The way it spits me up like bad karma on the cusp of justice
All I am is a pile of broken promises rolling off the devil's tongue onto God's lap

I sin every night
and ask to be forgiven every morning

I am the hollowed dust of a fragmented sentence God thought was a promise, I left out all the important parts
Whispered fallacies into his ear the night before last
Now all he ever hears from me is lies
I always says things I don't mean

My muffled tears echo in the wells of deaf ears never to be heard
I wonder when God stopped hearing my pleas
The morning hates my cries for forgiveness so it stuffs my throat with rainclouds
Every morning it is pouring

I want to know what daybreak feels like without emotional hangovers
I am hung over
Vomiting over the side of the bed as I edge closer to point of no return
Purging all my insides
So I can't feel a thing

Teach me how to not cry underneath a stack of damp pillows and bed sheets
Soaked with the sewage of lust and pride
I can feel it leaking from my skin

Teach me how to not sin
I am tired of asking for forgiveness

I am tired of the drizzle of my tears
fogging up the windows of my soul
I am a blind angel bumping into clouds
I can not see a thing

God
I hate mornings
Because with each sunrise I know I will only disappoint you more

vanilla thunder

and i french kiss our memories goodbye
tongue and all for the last time
like the night i vacuumed the vanilla sprinkles out of your chocolate taste-buds with my tongue
do you remember that night we had cupcakes

i kissed you

you were vanilla
i was chocolate
we were angels floating on the wings of god

every single star was sucked out of the universe and lost in the rims of your eyelids that night

i think i’m ok without you now

lightning is less frightening without thunder
you were my thunder
now you are gone
i feel safe

i like the sunshine
fog up the windows of my soul with short breaths dripped in honeydew dewdrops of morning

i like the sunshine
even though i don’t see your body imprinted into the fabric of the sheets of my soul anymore

i like the sunshine
even though it is always running away from me
i will chase it

i try to catch it’s rays as they stab into my abdominal then pierce into my heart
i am being sacrificed
but i do not mind
because i still taste the vanilla extract in between my gums

i’ll kiss my teeth and pretend they were you
and no one will ever know
that i’ve trapped you in my taste-buds

and i french kiss our memories goodbye once last time
because i like the sunshine
and i am utterly tired of vanilla...

Suspended; Caught Up In A Time Warp Of Love

It’s as though I exist in an alternate existence where time doesn’t exit, 
It just floats, gloats in the premise, the template that has pelted out into space in time
even gravity can’t intervene the divine,
Which was our love
I moonwalk on mirages
Float on petulant barges
Keep shooting from the hip with the same gun and the same clip
Wondering why I draw blanks…
I’m in December but my heart is in June
Beating in a blanket of tears for fears
When love wasn’t encased in a tomb of memories, regrets
My mind is playing tricks on me,
Painting portraits of imageries that are nothing but fallacies,
Entrapping me
I still taste your lips when I cry…
Somewhere between misery and ecstasy is where I lie
My only comfort is the ambiguity of the future
I am suspended, caught up in a time warp of unsung goodbyes…

corrupted tongues (freewrite from the bus ride home)

Crawl into my throat and blow kisses of life into my vacant lungs
Etch your initials into my tonsils
Scale the roof of my tongue
Fondle the sensuous rage spilling off the edge of my lips whenever I part them to speak words I barely understand
Tiptoe onto my taste buds without malice
Be gentle and kind
Inhale the venomous air that erupts from my soul with each passing moment
I want to infect you so I won’t have to be poisonous alone
I want someone to confront my demons with me
I don’t want to face them alone
Corrupted tongues swell and explode
Don’t let me explode alone

Beautiful

When he glances at me I feel like stars kissing the stark sky
Like Aphrodite's silhouette bathed in a petal of roses
Beautiful

Like the taste of his laughter simmering in my ear when he transforms my teardrops into rainbows
Like the fabricated dreams of him and me that impregnate my mind
I wish I could give birth to our love
But you don’t know that I exist
Beautiful

Do you know that I trace the outline of your lips with my taste buds to salvage the delicacies of your smile?

I think you’re beautiful like when the sun made love to the moon and created twilight
You are my light
You are sky to me
You are god to me
You are all I ever see
But you don’t know that I exist
Beautiful

I will peer through the curtains of your soul
Hoping to catch a glimpse of your spirit
I will perch atop heaven’s balconies
Hoping to dive into your dreams
I just want you to see me
Beautiful

Please tell me that you see me
Like I see you

She Wasn’t Fast Enough (the tale of the surviving Iraqi sister)

We ran
They shot at us
We kept running
They just kept shooting
We ran but we were not fast enough
They didn’t mean to hurt us
But they still shot at us
They shot at her

I grip her hand and want her to climb atop my back
“I will run for you” I scream
But she just wasn’t fast enough

Bullets fall from the sky like wounded angels
And strike like lightning
Pierce through her stomach like god eye’s sneers down upon humanity
She wasn’t fast enough

My heels dig into the ground as I sprint across the mud
Gunfire grazes my ear like the lips of death nibbling at the corners of my little sister’s soul
The pitter patter of her feet can’t compare to the thud of tanks
I reach for her hand
But they got her
She wasn’t fast enough
So now she is bleeding

Falling to my knees I feel the bloodied soil splash against my face
I drag her body to the river
She won’t stop bleeding
I can’t stop screaming
She is dying
She is dead

The reddened fabric drapes around her delicate olive frame
Strands of jet black hair wiggle about the murky water
Her head rests atop my thighs
My legs are folded
I have surrendered

She is dying in my lap
But she is probably dead by now
I know nothing of death
Not death like this

I sit there in the belly of the river
Her delicate lifeless body sprawled across my bloodied lap
Searching for god in her vacant eyes
I watch her last tear shimmy down her pale, cold cheek
I stroke her face and close her eyelids

She just wasn’t fast enough.

Expired receipts

I cling to things
Nail myself atop burning crosses
Sever all my senses
choke myself in links of coiled bloodied broken bones of damned desires
and then rot in hell
I peel my own flesh with the sharpened knife of unrequited love
Trying to deplete you
but still I can’t get rid of this
Somebody save me

The pitter patter of his heartbeat
Is deafening my soul’s expansion
He clips my wings with every passing thought of him that rises like phoenix

What is freedom without flight?

How many expired receipts can I try to cash in before I get my cash back?
I don’t want this love anymore.

when i rant at god (freewrite from algebra class)

I push past my tears as I write this poem
Push past lies to find truth
Push past pain to find freedom
Push past the devil to find god

I search for him in my sleep
In my fingertips
In the torn seams of my soul
But I never do
Find you

God

I probably shouldn’t find you because if I found you
I’d probably tell you that I hate you
And ask you why you hurt everyone I love
Why you hurt me
Why you let me hurt myself
Why you won’t let me love me

I’d ask you to open my chest with your almighty hands
And show me my soul
Tear out my heart, bloody, beating and all
Then let me die

I want to know that I’m human
That I can’t live without a heart
Because sometimes I wonder
If I even exist

the routine

I sit on the toilet
I’m bleeding
And I’m confused all at once
Each month I can’t help but think when he’ll enter me
Whoever he is, probably a nobody
I think of the pain it’ll be
Not to have him inside of me
But to have him be gone
When the love is no good
When me is no good
When he moves onto his next excavation
Because I know it’ll happen just like that

I sit on the toilet
I’m bleeding
And I’m crying all at once
Looking down at my chocolate thighs coated with drops the color of ripe cherries
I realize I hate being a woman
I hate the bleeding
I hate the crying
But most of all I hate the pain

The agonizing pain of a woman’s heart shattering into tiny little pieces
And the loud echo it makes when it sinks to the bottom of her empty soul
Where it splashes against the puddle of tears left from her broken dreams past
When all these things happen to me

Every Morning (my battle with self-esteem)

When swollen dew drops balance on the cusps of fallen leaves
I kiss the rays of sunshine every morning before I leave hoping to photosynthesize
Why can’t I draw light into my darkness

Then I make a bed of white lies atop reality give my honesties a place to sleep
They aren’t enough to anchor me while I drift out into a world of sullen, sunken dreams
A place where my beauty doesn’t manifest

Can I face ugliness head-on like charging bison
I need lies to pick up where honesty isn’t suffice and
Coat my lips with cherry scented angel wings
So I can taste a piece of heaven with every breath I take
Remind myself that I am a child of god
But sometimes I just want to be a child of aesthetics
I want to be beautiful

in need of a vacation

I got a job

I got a job to save for school
to get in debt
to get a car
to get a house
to get in more debt
to buy diapers for the kids

Kids with the husband who doesn’t really love me
but doesn’t really hate me
But that fucks me just fine though and that’s quite enough for me

I work

I work to go on vacation then forget I need to go on vacation because I’m paperchasing
to save up for that getaway I never seem to get away to
I work 9 to 5 then sleep 9 to 5
my life is over

I have a career

Sleep-deprived
Irritated
Stressed
Wired
Medicated
Drained
Fucked
Royally

I rot in hell.

I rot in hell with my 401K
My glass of Chardonnay (which is really a whole bottle)
To numb the pain of my potential layoff
And all those unpaid vacays

I need a fucking vacation

I’m eighteen going on insanity
What the fuck happened to me
They were selling me pipe dreams
Crack pipe dreams white as my picket fence
Apathy is a hell of a drug

I used to believe but not anymore

Fuck a vacation I need to retire

When goddesses cry on the inside (what I wish I could tell my mother)

I rise to not so subtle tears of regret and anguish every morning just as the sun replaces the moon
Constant

Your pain swallows me up like your tear ducts swallow your pride I can only be angry but I wish I could cry all the tears you refuse to
For you

Paas down bitterness like heirlooms encrusted in agony and filth despite the fact that you’re a mountain of rubies and pearls
Royal

With outrage buried so deep into your soul I can smell the fumes of bitterness like decaying dreams of murdered martyrs
Tragic

I see beauty etched on your eyelids when you finally allow yourself to dream dreams
Sing me

Lullabies of heroines that aren’t too wounded to fly beneath angels on the pilgrimage to the heavens
Believe

That the world will stop spinning when your fears finally fall and god himself will part the oceans to swallow all your tears

Vehement Screams (what I’d cry out to my father)

I rummage for goodness in the aching kisses of my yearning lovers
Who fall over me like bricks off the Berlin Wall
Tripping over my roots bulging out of the seams of the spandex disguise of my tortured soul
My agony is forever expanding
along with their own…

Stretching fantasies of what if, should’ve, could’ve, uttering the words
“why didn’t she love me?” over and over until they find themselves disenchanted
They lament the scent of death always leaving my lips whenever we part them to kiss
When they try to inject life into my wounds through the tip of our tongues
They want to be scribes and translate their truths into a language I can possibly understand with these deafened ears

But they never do
I never do
I can’t understand the love of a man.
If you couldn’t love me, how could they?

Seductive scrolls of lies appear atop our naked bodies when we submerge into the depths of sin to forgive those who’ve trespassed against us.

They all hate me and it’s all because of you