dont ever look at my hello poetry again
(i know you are reading this)

in the smell of cigarettes and coffee,
you find comfort,  
and the space to avoid all things that may bound you or your toughwithaleatherjacket ****** front

toxic fumes on your lips,
rise above layers of black eyeliner fake lashes
above your false vitality,
lantern eyes fading, no longer able to find anything but inevitable fatality

dark, amidst despondence and incertitude,
masking our insecurity with smoke and cheep attitudes

take that tab of acid
       get ready for the trip
                                        down
               ­          down
           down

tonight
ill find a new lover to
**** me till im gone
pride too lost to recover
roll me up and smoke me
at least before dawn

waking up to a body i dont knoe
you'd think i'd know better
than to love a starving artist
a shape shifter
a person so sick in the head
no hope
im not talking about the beggar in my bed

I turned the radio up as loud as it could go,
Lit every candle in the house, and poured a glass of wine.
I sat back and let our memories dance across the room.
I always liked life better with a soundtrack

I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole.

Your intentions filled the room as I watched the drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch.

As you kissed me down my neck, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings.

You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again.

Do you see what you have done to me? Was that temporary pleasure from my little 13 year old body worth the pain I face today? Was that stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ******, sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since?

I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has conscient. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with this filth.

At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.

The snow is falling to the ground,
Kind of like it is falling in love
Not knowing that when it hits the earth it will definitely melt
Well darling, melt me. Let me seep into your skin sending shivers down that ridged spine and know I want you to be all mine. Cover every inch of you with ephemeral loving. I'll make you forget all warmth and then I want to be your summer. Yes. Both passion and pain... And it is so so much

Virginity
My virginity was bang, a brain against a glass-tinted window. It was child-locked doors and ax cologne. It was too much muscle and a 13 year old body to weak to tussle.

My virginity was a man who made **** seem like an art, the same systematic way the mortician dissects the cadaver. Striped from a name like i was nothing but a corpse

It was the bruises left for weeks. The ****** teeth marks left upon my once sacred body. It that deep voice with Alcohol on its breath.

Yes. My virginity was a ******* earthquake. It was 7 minutes of the worst kind of hell. 7. Where I stopped believing in heaven. Trust became the law, fear my bible. I watched as my foundations crumble. and I knew that this Earth was no longer safe to walk on. It was the aftershocks running down my spine and me, a vacant building constantly about to tumble

So here I am. 3 years later, standing in his rubble. mistaking a kiss for his fist. It's been panic attacks in grocery stores. It's been 3 years of hating myself more than anyone else possibly could. It's been 3 years of
Self blame
And the shadow of a girl I became
Unworthy is a word that takes up so much space

It was the carrying the scars of my last binge.
The night I convinced myself if it burned going down it must be holy water.
Finally Salvation
drinking so much I couldn't stand.
Drinking so much I could no longer stand myself.

I familiarized myself with the taste of concrete and forgot the smell of old books.
constantly looking for a new hook.
Blowing halos of smoking trying to make death look beautiful.
I found myself in a deep dark hole
Oblivion.. My only goal

Lately, It's been learning my body isn't an apology.  
It's been learning that bravery  cannot be measured my a lack of fear;
some times it takes a ******* soldier to look your demons in the eye and say.
This is my body.
I am the beautiful owner of busy breath.
I'm that  shadow girl with a storm inside
No I am not that bruised soul in the empty bottle.
It's been 3 year of convincing myself that This world, it needs my voice.
It's been learning I am a miraculous dance floor of glittering molecules.

It's been learning that You will never have a greater opportunity to learn to love thy enemy, when your enemy is own holy, holy self.