To the man with the comb-over,
I resent you.
For the way you talk about women,
Speaking of us like property,
For taking away our choice,
Of if we want to conceive.
To the man with the loud mouth,
I ignore you.
For shooting down people’s words,
Putting a lock on their mouth,
And interrupting them with your nasally
To the man with the twisted morals,
I abhor you.
For the families pushed out of the country,
By the wall in your heart
And the one you want for your country.
To the man with all of the power,
I fear you.
For the lies you tell,
You reek of deceit.
For how you make war,
Or peace, if that’s what you want to call it.
There’s a pile of orange cat vomit on the sofa
whose back has been stapled and thumb-tacked
onto the framework it’s, where it peeled.
There’s clumps of dog hair like dusty black clouds
clinging to the stairwell corners. Dog vomit, cat urine
and miscellaneous other stains splotch the gray carpet.
There’s windows coated in years of gunk. There’s a child
whose life has been shattered and carries on with a
tablet. Chickens roam and shit on the deck.
I don’t emerge. My room is half-painted, hot, and dark.
I don’t emerge from my cage. Litter boxes overfilled out
there. Hate out there. The air is heavy and thick.
Feeling the fat upon myself, is a pain I'd always known
I look in the mirror and wish I could see my collarbones.
I want to be that girl who's thin and beautiful.
But instead I'm the one with big thighs and that's inexcusable.
I hope one day to be the skinny girl I know that's inside me.
The girl with her collarbones, everyone can see.
It were a lie.
I could see your lips forming the words.
Before you would let them go into my ears.
It were a disgusting sound from a wonderful person.
I acted like I didn’t hear that gross lie.
Instead I heard the voices inside your mind.
Telling me everything about you, your past and future.
They gave me a vision of my future with you.
I was lying on the floor, black blood everywhere.
It wasn’t my blood, but your’s.
Sneaking in my veins, of my precious red blood.
I felt like you, I thought like you… I died like you.
I hated that lie you told me.
“I would never harm you, ever.”
It traveled around my brain, into the deepest places.
For it to stay and holding me awake.
My ocean of thoughts.
My sea of tears.
My pools of blood.
My grave of fireflies.
I died by your hands.
By your feet.
In your blood.
In your mind.
eyes to the sky and patches break
they stop in swirling movements
vision tips right to the open water
lipid in the thick of a down chair
as heart grows stale and cold tone
tracing the grooves of cedar table
intent so morbid i cast you back
running back to memories hidden
keeping sugar coated tongue kisses
speaking to her continual healing
women like you will not be victorious
locked tight in waters that change
circling now in empty conversations
the eyes stonewalled to mental riots
thinking above some lower thought
Oozing goozing syrup drips from you lips
It disgusts me
With each drip a lie unfolds
Your sugared teeth as yellow as corn.
Dripping, slipping, slurping.
Your smile disgusts me.
As the ooze starts to fall from you cheeks.
And I glance at that sick smile
I can feel my head spinning
My teeth aching from your sick twisted smile.
The sweetness is not like chocolate. No.
It's the sweetness of swallowing honey with a dry mouth.
It stays with you.
Nothing to wash it down
Your smile gives me cavities,
that hurt almost as much as you do.