Grasping, he took pretty scented flowers
shaped by sultry red wine,
beside a platter splayed

of charcoal knit and stockings,
sheer with three birdlike buttons and
fuck-me boots that slipped across

his shine-less finger.
Whispering weatherboard words
in her ear, before biting her throat

with a mouth that knew violent
seduction, she offers her heart
in her cupped hands

and between her lucid thighs.
He accepts, tucking it deep
within his pocket

before flying over violet seas,
beneath rose sky, returning
to a deluge of small embraces,

forgetting the depth of his corduroy,
parading his muscle
around a suburban dream.


Copyright ©2013 Le Chat Noir. All rights reserved.

short and sweet.
bitter and fast.
i start life anew.

where are you?
i remember the drug.
her eyes.
(black as pain)

here
my lips were dry.
my hands shook
i will always be right here

love is red.
blood is pain.
tears are blue.

i want you now
my time had come
hold me close
the twice seen sunrise floated above.

i want a love
that will make me feel
like the world
was made just for the two of us,
the stars revolving around our lives
like they're connected by a red thread.

i want a love
that will be so strong
it will burn the world to pieces,
and then
build it all back up again.

i want a love
that people will remember,
one that strangers
on the street
will be able to feel
just by looking at our smiles,
and the light in our eyes
when we're around each other,
the others' presence
simply just enough.

i want a love
that will last
longer than a lifetime,
one that would have us
shifting in our graves,
one that would be spelled out
in story books
and love songs.

i want a love,
this love,
to be between you and me,
because darling,
i would do anything for you,
hold your hand,
kiss your tears,
know your mother,
make you tea,
plan out dates,
take you to new york city,
paris,
collect sands from the moon,
if only you would ask.

A dot of red
like earth springs
naturally
releasing
from beneath
those holy
waters that
haunt and run
our bodies
pricking thumb
let off all
the worries
rivers and
oasis clear
the sick realm
that plagues me.

I saw a dapper hobo
In a brilliant red button up
Shiny white beard
Cracked-out Santa Claus
(Smart bird)
Picking through trash

I like the feel of isolation
of chapped air and retention
constant need to check the windows
but still the glitter etch my fingers
and the glue dries - I don't cry until
the social worker prods my life
and the girl with red hair
makes me sane.

There are those who dive into bed eagerly,
Clamber over the sheets with bright enthusiasm,
Pupils wide and cheeks flushed red
They stretch out with their lovers - and enjoy.

There are those who ease into bed hesitantly,
Wriggle under the sheets with shy anticipation,
Breathing loud and lips licked moist,
They too stretch out with their lovers - and relax.

But there are also those who only slip into bed drowsily,
Fall below the sheets only with fierce exhaustion,
Eyelids heavy and dreams so close,
They stretch out only with their blankets - and sleep.

And maybe that's the way they like,
Indulging in pleasure from dreams not lovers,
The soothing touches from silk not skin,
Or if they do take company to bed, it is but to sleep -

For there are those who climb into bed quietly,
Curl under the sheets with careful tenderness,
Smiles soft and arms open wide,
They tangle around their lovers - and rest.

i.
I never cry.
But this night, with a bottle of red wine,
and a cheesy, romantic movie,
I just couldn't hold back
When I found out about HER
existence.

ii.
I called you, over and over,
and still patterns are repeating
You should have just cut me off,
You should have just told me you were done
Rather then listening to me bare my heart
Through the tears and the slurs,
I was sitting on the carpet in the corner,
Waiting to be found by you

iii.
The next morning, I apologized
Profusely, for not being what you wanted
Or needed anymore,
You told me, I shouldn't be sorry,
I should just
Move
On
Move
Along
you said

iv.
I'm glad it was so easy for you,
I'm glad you're already in love,
Swooning and infatuated
Like a lover still in high school,
And she looks like America's Sweetheart
She looks innocent, perfect,
Pure, and her pictures mock me
Not even your type,
and yet, here we are,
Here you are

v.
There comes a time where I have to
Come to terms,
Convince myself that sleeping alone is fine,
After years of sleeping beside you.
Convince myself that it is FINE
that she is now occupying my space,
on the right side of the bed.
That my letters have been burned,
the picture frames taken down.
There comes a time where I have to
Come to terms,
Make a choice,
To be okay.

the very first time I went to a phycologist
my mother had already spoken to her
and given her "the whole story"
so that when i went in to speak to her
she thought she already knew everything

so i think half the problem was that
i didn't get a chance to get comfortable
with this random lady
and then come out with my problems
when i felt it best
i was forced into talking about them
right away

also i think where she had talked to my mother first
she had developed a bias
so she was on my mother's side
and thought her words were law

because when i went in and sat down
she told me i was being a selfish little girl
and that i needed to stop doing these things
because my parents didn't deserve
to have to deal with it

she said i probably had no friends
and made my list all of the friends i did have

she said i have to imagine being in my parents shoes
and seeing how this would effect them
but all i could think was that she didn't know
what my parents were actually like
and she had no business standing up for them

she couldn't imagine the nights i'd spent
crying on the fucking floor
with my father standing over me yelling
that i was being a stupid child

or the nights they would lock me out of the house
and i'd be stuck sitting on the doorstep
until my little brother would come down
and sneak me in

and so i sat in her red office
on her red fucking couch
and cried for an hour
while she basically told me off

and then my parents came in and joined me
and the lady said that things were going great
and i should come back the week after
she also gave me some homework
i was supposed to think about my future
and write down where i wanted to be
in ten years

also, she said that i wasn't allowed
to talk about anything she said with anyone
for at least two days
so i would have time to let it sink in

as soon as i left there i went to my boyfriend (at the time) 's
house and told him everything
then i took the fucking sheet with the homework on it and wrote

"in ten years i want to be fucking dead"

it felt like she didn't even care about my problems
like all that mattered to her was the money
she was going to make having me sit in that chair
for an hour a week

it felt like she was trying to cram me into this mould
that she and my mother had created for me
that didn't even consider my own feelings and plans

i felt ignored, disrespected, alone, and pathetic

if the therapist wouldn't even try to help me
what hope did i even have

___________________­_

someone please tell me this isn't how therapy always works
cause god i know i need it, but i've kind of been scared off of it