"don't let anyone you wouldn't want to be
inside you"
stuffy grandmothers whisper after bar mitzfahs
or quinceaneras or senior proms
while they are whisked away by the rough hands of boys.

protecting the inches between her legs
will always be more important than anything else.

ankles crossed sitting on the washing machine
until her mom slaps her across the face.

you were dead
and I was tired of digging my own grave.

spent virginity:
what if the blood never stops
running

Maybe
someday
we'll
be
intoxicated
enough
to talk
about it.

that last morning
was one of the best
your head slightly rest
upon my naked chest
your curls in my fingers
your scent still lingered
our love made so sweetly
destroying your current love
i left you in mourning
your decisions to destroy me
with your decision to break her
that was our last morning

I want that first drop
the first spot,
to catch and greedily
drink
the first drop.

They all say,
'did you feel the rain?
I think it's going to pour',
but a million people have said it before,
it's a throwaway line,
I want to be the one who says it
for the very first time,
I want that first drop
the unbroken first spot.

Nothing unique,
everything oblique except the first drop
I thirst for the first spot
of rain.

I'm an artist in many ways.
I use a pen.
I use paint.
I use canvas.
I use a blade.
I use my body.
My masterpiece sometimes drips down my legs.
As I play tic tac toe on my thigh.