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.
And I still think about you sitting pretty in that skin tight white shirt
The one with the holes in it, reminiscent of the holes in my skin
Reveal my boiling blood work and fragile spine
Eyes glued to the floor wondering what it would be like to be called 'mine'
and you're there on the couch wrapped up in deep brown talking shit to the pretty girl next to you
And I'm over here on my own knowing better than to try to make a move
When you're already preoccupied with someone else
I know I'm better by myself
Now it's nearly two months out and I'm watching you on a tiny screen in my room
Long limbs draped artfully over a guitar feet dangling in the pool tattoos indistinguishable in the evening gloom
And I wonder what it's like in your world
I wonder what it's like in your head
If it's raining or snowing or if you're choking on what you should have said
So now I'm slightly intoxicated on my back in my sheets
Praying for some sign of rain or some subtle relief
From switch screen wanting I don't even want any of you
I don't know you I don't trust you I don't know what you do
I know an idea
better left by itself
Better left alone so I can be by myself
Not for anyone else
Just me in my own skin
And you're a casualty of my sober vivid mind
An empty grave I don't want to find
An ocean packed with a thousand words better left unsaid
A persistent reminder of the emptiness of my bed
And in my dreams I'll move closer to you
I'll take hold of your calloused hand
But as I wake I know I'll run far from you
Because I'll never belong to any man
And hey I could be the tattoo on your left arm
Wrapped tight around your bones
Hey I could be the ice in your glass
But you will never be my home
No I'd rather be alone
Omw to rape ur bitch.
Do you think that rape is a joke, lad?
Ya it's funny
And why, lad, do you think that?
Cuz it is get educated u hoe
-because,- and there should be a period after "is." Also, to be grammatically correct, -you.-
I hope sum prisen bitch rappes u in da ass
Right back at you, lad.
Lad isn't a word quit callin me lad
Lad means "young boy" where I'm from. Perhaps, instead of telling me to "get educated," you should take yourself back to primary school and actually learn something this time.
And then he blocked me.
If you're curious about what being raped is like, let me tell you.
It rips you appart
And tears you to pieces.
All the time.
Some people, like myself,
Look over their shoulders
As if expecting to see their attackers
Lurking in the shadows.
It is no joke.
And why I called him "lad,"
Is because I'd never call anyone who jokes about rape