She thought her outfit was beautiful when she put it on this morning.
And it was.
She donned the skirt with care,
Kitten heels polished and perfect.
Adjusting the turquoise blouse in the mirror,
She brushed her hair,
Put on her makeup,
And left her apartment early for a stroll.
She walked down the city street,
Head up, shoulders back,
A faint smile on her fresh face.
But as she neared the crosswalk,
She noticed the looks.
First came the looks from the men.
"Hey there, beautiful," one said.
"Nice ***," said another.
She ignored them all,
Choosing to cross to the other side of the street
So that they couldn't try to touch her.
Then came the looks from the women.
"****, she couldn't fit her fat *** into a minivan," said one.
"Who does that ***** think she is,
Walking around in that outfit?" Said another.
She ignored them all,
Choosing to keep her head down,
So that they wouldn't think she was promiscuous.
Finally, she noticed the looks from her co-workers.
"Does that violate dress code?" Asked one.
"If we had a dress code, it would," said another.
She ignored them all,
Choosing to head home early
So that they wouldn't laugh at her.
When she got back to the apartment,
She took off the skirt,
The polished kitten heels,
And the turquoise blouse.
She pulled on a pair of sweats,
And decided to watch Netflix instead of
Facing the cruel outside world.

In a stirring river,
Garrotted by mud and each rusted carcass
dumped over the slow years -
The dredgers cut down
And saw the metal of a woman,
A frothy corruption, naked, open.
They prized her from the mire and saw the city
through the eyes of the sewer.

The Lady from the Thames.
Her skin broke when she flopped on board.
-

Caved in by the tumbling sky
and the air, dry like leather,
Caught in his throat.
The Kilburn high-rise walls peeled like fingers
and the cogs clicked to fast to bite back.
He turned to the sepia city
like new life
And looked for her.

River of time elapsed
churning up memory
Each gallon lurches grit and rot.
trolley and corpse shudder
Forward, backward.
Teasing in smashed bottle

She was young once.
Looked just like her mum.
'What a muddy little angel you are,
What a muddy little angel you are.'
Til the glitz, the cracking lips
bet on kindness.
'I remember being a girl -
I waited for my mother every morning -
She was smiling and never sad.'

The sunken root scratches for life
Underneath vast, forgotten hangers.
The widow maker sheds her bark
and keep pace with the smog.
Sees what we all don't know.
Lives where we all can't see.
In a squealing Kings cross they met,
He led her to a room with broken windows
and one swinging bulb,
She wasn't scared.

Dank Amazon.
The roots intertwine with wires
sprawling grip for sulking glass tress.
'I'm a cruel joke don't you see?'
As her eyes slowly rolled
'I'm sorry'
As her fist unclenched
'It sorry'
As her knees went limp
'I'm sorry'.

Belted up, un-silent night
Screeching myre, gridlocked light,
He left her in the silt
And to the sound of screaming vans,
Runs rabbit down the hole
The hiss 187, 187 from the radio.
Alive in neon puddles that shatter
Under his pounding feet.
-

It was her who the dredgers found and
As looked to her form and
As they looked to her cuts
They thought that
She was the river.
Just another smashed bottle,
Un-watered.

When you are angry
do not slit your wrists
Slit something that deserves it
like rotten pumpkins
tomatoes that refuse to turn red
burnt toast
ungrateful pieces of blank paper
clay embodiments of your enemies.

When you are happy
bottle it up.
Spread your love
but don't spread yourself too thin.
Save some for yourself
for when you feel like
a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk.
And smile
because you're beautiful.

When you feel empty
scream
cry
punch
run
put out everything you've got.
Listen to music that's full of passion
splatter canvasses with color
scream words that
would make your parents angry
and sailors proud.
Make yourself feel alive.

When you feel sad
read a happy book
listen to happy music
watch a happy movie.
Keep moving forward
because you're mistakes are arbitrary
and anyone who hurt you
is a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk
and you are walking away.

When you feel anxious
control your breathing.
lie down
close your eyes
listen to calming noises
wash your hands in warm water
with soap that smells just right
until you feel better.
Please feel better.

When you feel in love
let them know.
Waste no time trying to be chased
trying to be coy.
Tell them you love them
because life is too **** short
to have regrets.

When you feel
rejoyce.
because
the world is more beautiful
when it is tainted
with your feelings.

He watched
as she walked ahead.
As her hips swayed
like tree tops in the wind.
She looked to him
over her shoulder.
Her hair blowing
in the wind.
She walked
among the trunks
of the trees
in the forest.
He walked next to her
and held her hand.
He kissed her
on the cheek.
She kissed him
on the lips.
The trees all shielded their eyes
as they laid down.

He watched
as her eyes closed
their breathing slowed.
The crest of her bare hips
and her beautiful thighs
that she thought
were too big.
She looked to him
and the trees stood as witness
when she said
"I love you."

She is a creature of habit.
When she folds things the edges must be perpendicular.
She brushes her teeth twice every day at the same time.
She gets stuck on things
Like forgotten chores, particle physics, and boys that are two years older.
She can't sleep
if she breaks her routine
or does things out of order.
She loves notebooks
because she loves to designate things,
not because she likes to fill them.
She loves math for the symmetry
and hates it when she doesn't understand.
She is a perfectionist.
She beats herself up when she isn't the best.
She loves corners
and lines
and the symmetry of the universe
She loves books
because they are more perfect than real life.
She loves him
because they are creatures
of the same habits.

It was a good day.
The day when she decided she was worth it.
She decided to talk to him.
She decided that she didn't care if he thought she was annoying as hell.
She was worth it.
He talked to her.
He smiled at her.
He kept watching her.
He stood too close to her
on purpose
Because it was a good day.
Because she was worth it.

Six
Seven
Eight
High schoolers.
A cloudy sky above them
Confined into a corner
Painted on pavement.
A playground ball
Bouncing between them
As the joke and laugh
And yearn
For the days
When we still had recess.

When I fall
I fall hard.
For the boys and girls
With full lips
Pale skin
Blue eyes.

When I fell for you
I got stuck
On your intellect
Your biting wit
Cynicism.

Your form
Is stuck in my head
Your rare smile
Is imprinted on the backs
Of my eyelids.
You are all I see
When I sleep.

And when you stand
Just slightly too close
I wonder.
I wonder
If you chose to stand next to me
If your fingers brushing across
The back of my hand
Was an accident.
If the times I caught you staring were coincidences.

The last time I fell
I fell hard.
For a boy with full lips
Pale skin
Blue eyes.
I made a mistake.
I gave up on you.

Have you given up on me?

You are like crack.
I'm addicted to being around you
The thought of your kiss
Your touch
Makes me smile and blush
And dream of wedded bliss in vain.
I am young
My love is futile.
Every ivory dream
Ends in unrequited love.
Every schoolyard crush
Ends in obsession.
When will I see you again?
A single hour is never enough.
A single day leaves me hungry.
No matter how long
It's never long enough.
I am addicted to you
And you don't even suspect it.

Life is frail and futile.
Life is an accessory
To a universe
Independant of our actions
A human life is but a second.
That ends before you reach the end
Of a sentence.
And is over when you least expec-