I am peachflush, whipped red
and covered in large diamonds. Today
I sleep like a baby under a rosebush,
while his tongue calls my name
like danger, like anger, like love.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
Everything is strange, she whispered in my ear
and I agreed. Ten years is long enough
to snarl one’s thoughts into pleasant bows
or leave a gaping hole where traffic once stalled.
My mother is no longer flesh, she is the realm
of tissue and muscle that I do not hold
in my conscious, greedy palm. We are strung
apart now, I dangle in the way of other bodies,
we start and stop and wait; we listen for the growth
of our hair and nails, our brains, even. Now
you are hog tied to the milky way, your brilliance
is masked by your own two hands and the silence
silence silence of your wrists. They love you,
remember this after 3 AM. Remember to
keep the darkness in your marrow.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
watch out for ***
and drugs
they said
"don't dye your hair"
"study hard" and, my personal favorite,
"it gets better" when in fact it doesn't
at least not for years and months and days
spent underneath my bed staring at the coiled springs
poised to collapse under the weight of my thoughts.
Collect yourself, pick up your safety razors, take an Advil.
Split open your legs and wrists and fingertips
and maybe then will you be free of weight
of bone-stones
of whitewashed emotions and an ignorant sun
that smiles with bliss
and turns my face to the sky.
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
Love me. Love... me.
I am the wind that folds against your body
the flat shadow next to you, the voice tucked inside your
shirt pocket
I am the one who sits alone at night--
are you thinking of me? Because I am thinking of you
and how we are never going to see each other again,
or even talk to each other, though I still want
everything
for us
and I want you to know that you are here with me,
on top of me, inside my head
you are next to me, within me
and you aren't leaving anytime soon.
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
When I was 11 or so
my friend who was fat and I
would feed meat to dogs behind gates.
They would look at us
so hungry
inside their grey gardens
dangerous and solemn
and I would look at them
so angry
so livid
so fantastically superior
and we would reach a mutual understanding:
that man's best friend is power.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
Bullets love flesh
flesh loves touch
I thought guns dear
I thought them tough
But metal, and metal
is smooth, not rough
killed my baby and friend today.
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 5:44 PM UTC
The wick upends
wax, string,
flame
coating my arm and my sinuses are corrupted
am I in pain? Or am I just on fire?
ridiculous how everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) is on fire
flaming fake man, scarecrow
out of house, out of mind
Colder than moon rays or hatred or soft
refrigerator hands
colder than the liquid I pour on my face to wake me up for the world
colder than hungry
colder than resting on my porch alone
singing: "ooooooooooo"
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 10:10 AM UTC
My dog is eating me alive.
I picked a mosquito bite.
It bled, of course because I bite my nails.
His tongue his scratchy and it feels
like he is eating me alive.
Like my dog is eating me alive.
The clothes I wear are swallowing me whole.
I'm suffocating in their woven hold.
The craftsmanship is fine
it's my body that's confined
and I swear it feels like
the clothes I wear are swallowing me whole.
My hair is too unruly for my head.
It takes up knotting when I am in bed.
Crocheting, colliding, fitting you under me
Finally in the morning I can see
My hair is too unruly for my head.
Life scares the hell out of me.
Things like garbage, masks and poetry
make me want to ***** my lunch
or just smoke and dance
because sometimes thinking kills you
and that is why
life scares the hell out of me.
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 5:49 PM UTC
Gone are the flowers
gone is the smile
the kiss and
the real-life person
now
so far away from me, eating apples and watching over me
now
so very close to me, sweating in the heat and whispering in my ear
read my lips, **** off"
Apr 27, 2011
Apr 27, 2011 at 1:21 PM UTC
How old are we?
Too young to remember.
We're stupid people
person, I am a little girl
quivering
Lunchtime! it's a calling.
I am sure of my steps, they grieve as I do
under the matte color of peach
is a ****** mess.
Swearword, swearword, swearword. Slap.
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC