"Before you get in my britches,
you'd better fly,
give me a gold coin,
tell me how beautiful I am."
"Honey, you're beeeeuuuutiful!
Here's a gold coin.
Sorry, I can't fly, but
I'll start taking classes next week."
with my token.
Guess, that wasn't good enough......
I am making bargains with the universe
I say a silent prayer to nothing and no one
I say, please, take their pain away
I will carry all their burdens if only they don't have to
please, universe, there is so much sorrow
we are surrounded by gravestones of those
that were crushed under the weight of self conflict
fighting against the sadness to be happy
please, let me take their pain
I am used to pain, I have room for more
just let them be happy
I cannot bear for another friend lost
I cannot bear another gravestone.
his bed is too big for only one soul
my head is hurting and my throat is howling with the wolves
if only your fascination didn't melt with the snow
if only i didn't think myself as a rebound
that you'll blow away with the smoke
of ten thousand cigarettes
So we get needled,
nickle and dimed
all of the time,
people chinking away
at our armor.
Wanting to scream
at the top of our longs
to fuck off,
but instead acting
prim and proper,
a residual of the Vanderbilt
school of etiquette,
bullshit political correctness
ruining the spirit.
Can you hear it,
see the blight,
the lack of courage
all over this land?
I am black
my skin is ugly
sometimes I want to go far away
because I am ugly and I wear glasses
I sit at my computer and mimic
while I play with myself at my computer.
I want to be white and I don't like my ugly brown skin.
I hate me and being black.
How would you take the news of my bitter insomnia?
Would you feel conflicted knowing that could I sleep,
I might not still want you? I know that you’re just a heap
Of atoms tied together, cells powered with mitochondria,
And without you I am just succumbing to hypoxia.
You are nothing to the universe, just an ignorant sheep,
And were my head unclouded, no illusions would I keep:
I’d know in lucidity it’s just my acute monophobia.
But you are there still, hiding under my thin skin,
And you’re not going away, and it’s driving me insane.
How could I discount your memory, your incredible smiles,
Your hands rough like heartbeats, your eyes glowing like sin?
You are a heap of molecules, mere bone and membrane:
And your soul is a fire, your ardor drives me for miles.
Let me tell you about a game i play,
where i close my eyes and fade away...
i float away to a special kind of place,
Beyond the stars, moon and space,
in this special place you see, there are only
two people- you and me- in this place,
all is right- nothing but love, and we
In this place, there is no sadness, no cells,
no courts, non of that madness, no rules to
follow, no laws to break, no bars to hold us or
separate, no one to tell us we cant kiss or touch...
I don't just tell you "i love you"- i show you how much,
but eventually the game must end...
My eyes must open, and reality will set in... but
someday soon- and I'm not sure when... but i will
close my eyes and I'll play my game again...
Fuck you for making me feel like this.
Fuck you for placing my legs under a microscope, X100 magnification and carefully peering at their relative sizes
Then fuck you also for proceeding to tell me I need to measure the circumference of my thighs weekly and write it down so the looming numbers will scare me away from that last piece of bundt cake in the fridge,
all the time acting as if you are giving me a valuable, sage insight on the pursuits of human happiness
Fuck you for turning me into a 15-point lab report due monday.
I mean, are you fucking stupid?
I do happen to own a mirror.
You are just so damn blinded by your self-proclaimed "good inentions."
How can you not see that all I want is to be tiny?
That the one thing I crave, desire, yearn, for above all else,
more even than to be loved and successful,
is to be petite.
to not feel my thighs softly scrape against eachother when I wear skirts
to not hear the way clothes strain over my hips, how they positively groan over all my imperfections.
To simply not,
to be less.
To feel less.
I catch unexpected glances of myself in the mirror and I am instantly and irrevocably consumed with the notion that I must cut and cut all the squishy places away until nothing remains but blood, muscle, and my own shredded skin.
I shame myself.
ordering my heart not to shrink when it peeks at all the fat surrounding it.
I insist that, it's stupid,
letting a few extra grams of CH3(CH)2COOH be significant enough to make me want to curl up in a dark corner and cry for weeks and sob out every last extra particle of water and fat until I'm thin.
Until I am perfect.
But thanks anyway for pointing out my weight gain,
aren't you such a doll?
Wow, I mean
what an act of sincere kindness!
next time I get a pimple or a stretch mark,
remind me to call you.
Because in a world where appearances are everything
Who doesn't need to be reminded that they aren't beautiful enough to matter?
The embers died and I extinguished every burning flame with my breath
The fire inside me glowed so brightly I could not see,
and the flickering candle-lit lanterns of my eyes brimmed with water
and the roaring blaze inside me died
I inhaled smoke trying to reignite what once thrived
my nicotine lips smelt like ash and my heart was a burnt out cinder
I washed the smell of smoke from my fingertips
the same fingertips that fires used to lick and nibble,
caressing the skin that held a furnace within
Nothing but smoke and ash left inside me now
And blackened lungs from years of fueling the very object that would be my demise
I drowned in a flood created by my own weak self
it washed away my sins, yes, but I was made entirely of sins
and now I am a hollowed out shell of the bonfire I used to be
I was engulfed in a shower of tears that diminished the essence of my being
Now I am nothing but ash and cigarette smoke.
Today I'm not thinking about you, is one of these days that the sun had fade away as rain are taking over the grey and cold empire...
I'm collecting my dreams, so I'll start to execute each one of those little pieces of ideas that were building an altar of hope, I will collect my frustrations, my despair and loneliness as spiritual weapons and I will make the perfect scenario of inner war against love and the main idea of you flying through my mind...today is one of these days where I'm in a loveless state...
But I'm a hypocrite myself because I know that when the day's over and I'll close my eyes, I will see you again dancing with my insanity as I keep dreaming with an idea of you and me collecting the starts in the night, so we'll unleash a dark passion that will make us forget about this god-forsaken world...all I want is you...all I need is you...
Today I wish to put a bullet in my brain, or to stab myself in my heart so I can be able to stop this bitter sensation of forgetfulness. I feel that we've stop looking ourselves as "that someone special" to just a name and an idea of the effects we created in our lives, I hate myself for that...let me ask you this: are you feeling anything for me?? Have you at least ask yourself about my whereabouts??? Always the same goddamn questions tearing away my happiness...now I'm collecting dead memories so I can build a boat and flow through this empty ocean of desolation...
There's a tomorrow...and I want you there at my side.