Your skin smells like sharpie and the third
page of my sketch book. How it glows in
the dark reminds me of this one mermaid
whose hair keeps falling. I don't know how
she isn't bald yet. She does not cry, her
milky eyes seem to be so calm yet so
immoral, pearl-like greasy beam like some
oil spills on the ocean.

You have eyes like marine birds and that is
what truly makes me afraid.

Your nose is a branch of that fig tree I
killed during the last time I was trying to
find Narcissus. I remember that that day
Echo and I cried like mermaids and from
our eyes fell pearls and we did not wonder
at all why it did not hurt. It was a good
sign, kind of good like caution wet floor.
You know how I wish I could hang it in
front of my bedroom door.

You keep biting your lips only to keep the
blood flowing. I cannot say that I have
never seen waterfall as iron as that. I only
can give you tons of salt and you can use
that on your lips at midnight or when you
wake up from a nightmare at 4 a.m.

You grow hibiscus on your throat and
every time you speak all I can hear is the
pink and yellow and red and ants.

You have breath like motion sickness and
the dusty bench in front of the library. I will
go inside and become a ****** book 'til the
rest of my life. I will stay as pure as ever
when I am burned along with the library.

Your ears sound like lullaby and world war
three. You see, history is falling asleep so
peacefully, just like Mother Teresa or
Gandhi.

Away from my lungs I think it's good
that I haven't cried in front of my mom
and have had no time to shed tears for men.
Away from alveoli my blood just can't
take me anymore I breathe and it feels
different from what it's supposed to be.
I remember about everything and decide
to close it forever away from words and images
I think it's good that I can't talk anymore.
This throat is happy enough I'm not
trying to spoil the joy but I want truth
and at the same time lies.
Away from memories and thoughts I think
this is better than drowning even though
I used to be a deep sea creature.

I haven't yet seen my lover
the mother who brings my skin to sunshine
cradles me to sleep in soft blanket
pass me down her appetite from her mouth

Is true love a myth? I might never know
if my fingernails stay trimmed
Nothing matters, there are probably a bunch of girls
exactly just like you

Sharp, milky, and crescent-like
who wears her hands like dull box cutter
and illnesses like the remaining
forests after fire

There will never come a day:
1.
I stuck my head out of the window in rain
Without looking for your presence in between
2.
I drink coffee, any kind of coffee
Without pretending it's you I am drinking
3.
I see lines of poetries
Without reading it in your handwriting
4.
I blow a candle
Without imagining it's her in your heart


(I tried to read a boring book as if
it were your letters ----
But you've never sent me one)

1/
Under your claws, I
could not fly. My wings rot; soul
numbs; heartbeats empty.

2/
You say I'm alive
though it's just my body. You
killed me; deny it.

3/
I seek freedom and
I do fight for mine. But don't
you say I love it.

4/
Do you know that when
you killed one longing, you were
teeming three others?

Because all i want
is to be a butterfly
and lose my four wings.

xii.

big hips; small hips and long, skinny legs
people and the worlds inside them
pointing at the screen
which movie should we watch?

the last time i watched movie alone
was divergent
it was an insane ride
and my parents picked me up
knowing i had lost a thing
but they didn't ask
and i didn't tell
i was ***** by poetry

-- i am holy
just like lilith, eve, and mary --

watch out i am trying to heal
so what if i am romanticizing
illness! i am not ill
enough
to lose

my eyes see clear
anabelle, tickets sold out
the people; in hijab, in short skirt
in high heels and slippers
their faces
i see them clear

it looks the same like that friday
just feels different
it has been months
a relatively insane ride
so cathartic

my land may well be a big cathedral
or some sweet mosque
with all the gods
praying to each other
with cold soup in their tongue
and stale milk they offer

to the homeless like us, you know
home isn't really the walls and roof
that keep you from rain and sundust
home is the rain and dust and your sunburned hands and the acnes on your face and
the wounds on your knees
you got when you were learning
to bike

viii.

I first really learned that
Promises are meant to be broken
When I was fifteen.
Maybe that's too late.
Maybe that's too lame.
It was a doctor,
Or not anymore. I think he was one of
Those malpractioners,
I think he told us
He used this supernatural blah blah.
I don't know how
He did get to our house,
Sitting so comfortably
And drinking the offered tea.
Actually I don't remember what
He was drinking.
I just remember that he
Looked like typical
Male dentist here. With short hair
And white glasses and tight clothes.
Oh I think I just made it
Up. Memories are not
For the bad. Though
His eyes were not
Lovely at all. They were
Intimidating. They did not
Shine at all. Those eyes stared
At mine. I think his voice
Sounded like a drunk's. The
Question he asked, just answer
Honestly, don't be afraid, he said
He would not tell my dad.
Doubt was out. I could not
Lie. I learned that one later.
So soon, soon after.

I was fifteen. Not that young
To be able to sense
Danger. I am not
Exaggerating. My mind was
A treasure and still is.
Not that you'd be rich
With it. But I really don't have
Anything
Else.
I think the questions he asked
Were simple. But there was this
One **** he said
I did not need to worry about;
That I could trust him
That he would not tell
Anyone. You know,
Adults were not scary.
They are.

I know this might not
Be the question that
Makes you hesitate in
Front of the person you trust.
But my mind was a treasure
And still is. I don't
Have anything
Else.

"If you feel troubled, whom
Would you tell about that?"

The answer was actually
I would not tell at all. But
My treasure
Could not be discovered.
I could not lie but I had to.
I stayed silent
For a moment. He kept
Saying I could trust him.
So I did.
My brother, I answered.
That was the truest
I could say. And it was
True. I did tell
My brother this and that,
Though my treasure
Was always safely kept.
I think. I think then
They discovered that I had
That but apparently they were
Not interested in my
Treasure-play. I doubt
They even understand
At all.

He said to dad
That dad needed to
Deepen the parent-child bond.
He said to dad
That I should not
Trust my brother more.
He said to dad
That there must be
Something wrong
With me
And this family.
He said to dad
All the things
He'd said to me
He would not.

I don't understand
How my dad could still
Wish me to be a doctor
After that.

xviii.       i   grow like a pimple

only that i       stay

permanent stain, perhaps


concealer

vii.

I was 10 when I thought
seven years from then I would marry
a super blinding-kind-of-rich 82
year old
dying
man.
It was a normal thought.
He would be sitting
on a park bench.
It would be
a calm afternoon.
I would sit
beside him and we would
share a heaven-like
smile. We
would talk
about warmth
and love
and life
and death
and hope and I
would remind him
of the sweet old days
when his deceased wife
was still
together
with him.
He would love me
like crazy but I
would never
do. I would just
pretend and
gain his family's
trust and wait
for him
to die.
I would be filthy rich
at such a young
age.
And, once again, it was a normal thought.
I swear it was a normal thought.

What's funny
is
today is the
day
said and I
can't
even
talk
to
people.

ii.

I have heard Sia's voice
First was on Titanium's music video
Which I clicked out of bore
Second was-- There was no second time
(Maybe there will be)
I cannot remember how Sia sings
All I want is to hear
Holly covering songs
(Somehow Holly reminds me of Zac)
Holly's voice is not the kind of sound
You would fall for in a second
It is true love you will feel --
How John said it is just perfect;
Like falling asleep
Slowly, slowly, then all at once
(I don't know how many times
This has been mentioned on hellopoetry)
I didn't really read romance
But M said (not to me),
If you want to write romance,
Write it like John did TFIOS
(Not that I want to write romance
Or write anything worth reading)
And this would appear as boring
And random, but no:
I remember, M said that
Usually the sentence that begins with
'Honestly'
Doesn't really contain that much honesty
So
Honestly,
Those above (and below) aren't really the things
I wanted to talk about
(It's confusing, if you think about it more)
I don't know anymore
How many times this Sia's Chandelier
(Holly's cover, of course)
Has been repeated
(Over and over again)
I remember, my favorite before this was
Marina and the Diamonds' Teen Idle
I remember Holly cut some part of the lyrics
It reminded me of Zac
Or was it Gwen?
I really like mixing up things-
Really
I like being here
The locked door of the bathroom
Makes me feel safe
And the toilet seat
Has known me
Better than myself
It is like a mother, or an other self
Who just accepts me for who I am
It knows the most of me
How I move, cry, and smile and laugh
How I sing, how I scream
Even how I grow, how I fall and die
How I tried to ******* and gave it up
How I became me, how I am me
And not only hows but also the tiring whys
It knows
It accepts
But I will leave
Soon
And this bed and this messy room
And the hidings and the accidental leakings
And the family's warmth and their love
I will leave
Soon
Sorry not sorry
That I am happy
To leave
Soon

iii.

There is no place to hide
So **** false identity
I will soon be forgotten
So **** shame, **** filter
They say people are people
Because of their secrets
Because they are mysteries --
It's my wish to be nothing
I want to let go
I want to let go

It's hard to be a human
I am too complex to be none
I once thought
I wanted to be an amoeba
And I think I still want it
It is a lot better than to have these organs
Especially this brain
I don't like this brain
It manipulates me
It controls me
It thinks for me and without it I am stupid
When would I be free?
I want the freedom to think
Brain, don't control me
Let go of me
Let go of me

All I want is honesty
I want truth
Live in truth, breathe in truth
Know only how to
Say only the truth
**** fears
I am afraid
To be nothing
To tell anything
To know anything
When I made this account
I forgot to rehumanize
People other than me
(Not that I did rehumanize myself)
I didn't expect you all
To be so human
**** fears
I am afraid

v.

the teenage girl
overcoming fears
rising
head first
nonexistent rock bottom
mistakenly thought as sky ---
for her
only gravity
is suitable

vi.

just how much love
which existence
should i lie about?

iv.

warmth
makes me
shiver

xiii.

Kisses, tongue and hickeys
Growing ******* pure as a saint

Curious skin, curious chirps
Sins bright as a sun

Secrets in the nights, regrets in the thighs
Can we unlearn something once it has been done?

Lips barren and unmoved
For wisdom is more valuable than rubies

Cheeks pale as a paper
Written down, your name

(i.)

the frail kid
singing sand
brand new friend
leaving already
developing meaning
the word lonely
a killer pool
tattoed arm
naked as ***** baby
insecurity never felt
that pure
fishes and sisters
the kindergarten
now collapsed playground
right milktip, left milktip
how could you miss
the ones you do
not even
remember?
the hell keeps
leveling up

xv.

###
how do i survive
with metal hangs in my jaw
and plastic melts in my eyes,

both are lacking
what a body is supposed to have:

balance,
balance,
balance?

and with balance they never mean
everything goes the same way

in the same day,
the same pace,
the same face,

the same chemical formula to and fro
all over the place from tip to toe.

balance is never anything they mean.
it is never the thing it is supposed to mean.

it is not the seventh cranial nerve,
nor the sick tongue nor the dotted gum.
not a moon instead of a head,
nor the medicines,
nor the warm water,

nor the faces they make to know how it feels like,
(spoiler: they still don't know, they can't ever possibly
with heart as hard, no desire to learn,
no passionate dreams mentioning equity,
not once does it cry about what intersects with the music
they play so skillfully)

###
it is not the misplaced lips,
not the nonfunctioning left side,
not the one smaller eye nor the other bigger eye.
you cannot tell what i was born with.
you keep guessing wrong

that i was born with angry hands
desperately trying to hide the void where
every sincere smile is overthrown
and each tooth has their own problem for me to solve.

all the days you are a persona and i am the property:
i have been busy preserving what's inside,
carefully guiding my cells in place,
while you cheerfully break it
little
by
little

because of what appears from the outside:
even from the inside i can tell
i am ****** up so very horribly,
and with that alone, every adolescent can
pull a great show
of thousand jokes.

xvi. where do you go when your house isn't home?

i ******* crawl out of my body, swim infinite miles of the ocean, stretch my neck to the skies, replace my head with the moon. i ******* yearn for your presence, try to break the mirror with my weak stare, can't go further, fitting room doesn't fit whatsoever, all the buttons escape from my ***** and hair falls like tiny dandelions in a rainstorm.
i grow potatoes in my mouth, when i speak i smell of my root, when i am on my period i talk about stomachache at dinner table, when i search for space my tummy is the balloons at pingkan's 8th birthday party which i couldn't bring home. blow the candles i forgot to make a wish for a moment the fate seems seamless, bright red lipstick, brown mascara, outfits i can't ever wear to school, or to be honest, not anywhere because when i try to walk, every step is a ******* hysterical cry, when i use my toes every cell in my body violently shakes.
my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home how do you know that? how did you barge into my clichés? how dare you claim something that even i won't bring myself to think about?
i ******* crawl out of my body, not as soon as possible, i do it right now, right ******* now so i know the years i've spent trying to nourish the flesh i don't really own are worthless, the years i've devoted myself to my worldly lover are the ones that have been consuming my tiny soul, if you ask me now of course no one is satisfied, no one is satisfied until i don't want to call you mine anymore.
i ******* crawl out of my body.
in a desperate attempt to make the hideous pleasing to watch, i sell blindfolds on the street, i light the matches in the rain, i dream of dead grandmother and christmas feast. i turn into a cold statue, i left the tenderness for stupid microorganisms, my divorced bones blame me for everything i did not do. i used to do the right things now i just do nothing, it's ******* useless anyway, i can blink five thousand times and still believe that time is what the clocks and calendars say. (my grandmother was a buddhist.)
i ******* crawl out of my body. i don't want to experience this anymore, i am not into this kind of thing, i long for your presence, all i've got from this building is an infinite count of absences. my body is a building, it has no level, no room, no door, no window, no furniture. my body a giant concrete boring box, i do not even live there anymore, nobody lives there anymore, they are all gone to a poppy field in the middle of nowhere (actually somewhere, only that i am not invited). i ******* crawl out of my body, did that answer your question?
i ******* crawl. out. of. it.

xiv.

The heat is
heavy and a
gold,
though different from wha
t
I learned in high sch
ool.

I stopped sleeping
with the lights
on. I stopped wa
king up to a smooth,
even sleepiness. I
stopped admiring sunrises.

In high school
there were girls and only girls.
An all girls school
wasn't that much
extraordinary. A
lot of
people don't un
de
rstand, bo
ys were not practical un
til
you want u
s pregnant.

I wish we started being extinct,
right here and
now. I wish we
started earlier. I
wish
we
'd start at all.

Back then
I drew a lot.
I wrote some
things I can't
write anymore, nev
er ever
    ever
   ever
  ever
ever
ever

I didn't mean to chill the tea
But heat always flows spontaneously from hotter to colder bodies, and
never the reverse

Sorry I copied that
from Wikipedia

I never liked chilled tea
let alone the iced
one. Then
at two I remember you.
The cafe's
bankrupted.

Naturally, three wishes would always be
divided by zero
Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant t---

Back then on March
Four fears
I thought I would see you
(I didn't cry at the parking lot)
From five to six p.m.
seven people had waited
for me to stop the weep
(It was the second box from the left
on a women's bathroom, if you want to know)

I am burning all the books
along with the old letters
along with your new lover

*And the language obscene

xvii.

my dear neurosurgeon
failed to find my eyes,
he only looked
at my mouth, my
left jaw,
whine a little,
and gave me analgesic - i f

orgot what's the na
me - that replaced my f
ace with the mo
on. it's moon face. still

present until this very moment
just because my body wants to
remember. i
maintain my diet like there's
no tomorrow but actually there is &
boy did it
grace my stomach with a

crying gift, an angel's tears,
an angel lives near the volcano
everything turns sour.

i wasn't hurting at that time.

now i am. turning not only
my face to the moon, my whole body
is the moon, even my
fingers are the moon
but they are the crater part so
when i touch a boy he

disappears - when i
touch a girl i disappear.
i've never wanted to be a boy,

only some nights
i am so fragile i become masculine.
it's not that i've never felt
feminine, i do, every time

i am catcalled i do, every
time my father kisses me like a jewel
i do, every time my brother
treats me like a marionette
i do, every time i'm seen as angry i swear i do.

my mother is angry all the time but
that doesn't do anything about
her womanhood - her husband
still sees her as a good, and yes, the eyes
of a man
are like the sun, nothing at all
like mine.
my eyes are the only part of me
that is not the moon, that is pluto.

i've been to so many doctors
i am very sure it's not
the minds nor the medicines.

it's funny
that

my dear neurosurgeon
didn't even graze my skin -
the only time a knife
tore my epidermis open

it was a slim box cutter.

i've been to so many doctors,
i am very sure.

i was collecting pieces of the freedom
putting them here and there
on the iron, the calcium, and water
and every one meter on the soul
but then i realized
how ***** my thoughts are
how cruel i am
how could i trap the freedom
inside these bones and soul?
the freedom
is the most important
to the freedom
the freedom deserves the freedom
so i set it free

You will never be free
from me

You will live forever
in me

You will be dead but
I will maintain your corpse
so well, with super great care
while waiting for Isa to
come back --

Well, the truth is
you have died
(too many times)
but you resurrect
again and again and
I don't mind you
tearing off the butterflies' wings
because they still can
walk
and tickle this fatty stomach

Whatever it is!
Even when you find hate in whatever
Do not worry, for you are Jesus
The Savior
You are God

You are Jesus!
You are God!

The Unnamed Woman's perfume
still lingers on your feet
and
I believe in you

I believe in you

"... Blessed are those who believe
without seeing me." (John 20:29)

even when I see contradictions
and injustices
even when you, when I, be
the contradictions and
the injustices --

You will never be free
from me
You will live forever
in me

he was just a lion
smells like one
bites like one

oh, glad you came
see off all my zoo fantasy
oh, is it too late

you were there, in geography
you were there, avoiding history
you were a flagless country

nothing else feels like rainforest
all green and earth now dry
oh, is it too late

you ruin it for me
he was a lion
you kept pouring asphalt

my mistake it is, my, my bad
i have thighs like rainforest
you forgot

You don't understand
and i won't ever explain.
I do not either.

Milady, Lady Lazarus, I can't save you.
You save me.

iii. Name

I borrow your name
for the days i cannot bear
(and some ****** poems)

ii. Flower

Your hair is petals
and i am a butterfly
sipping your nectar

i. Angel

I have stomachache
like the roof of your mouth in
nights where stars are bright

I found a lamp, a broken lamp,
keeps shining despite broken.
A magic lamp from a magic land,
Genie's home, o, sweet home.
Three wishes won't ever do,
three wishes crawling from
you;
Seems broken, o, yeah, it's
a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.

Say your three wishes already,
says Genie.
I am writing a poetry, I whisper quietly.
What do you wish it would be? asks Genie, gently.
Ssshhh, you are bothering me, Genie.
Genie was bothering me
so I leave, I leave like the autumn leaves
drift by the window.
I leave like a sunset on a rainy day ---

Never say goodbye
to a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.

******* mom
stop tryna reach me
I'm not talking to ya
I'm not answering
whoever calls
from home
*******
family, each of you knows
just tell 'em the truth
we're falling apart
& it's my fault
or if it hasn't been, it will be
******* mom
I'm not returning any call
'cause if you hear my voice
you'll understand
we were once best company
now strangers in a convenience store

My hand smells of apple and
Iron in my blood begins to revolt.
A shadow puppet smirks, pulling blanket
Wrapped over the 14 year old little girl's thighs;
It's morning already, I've got to **** you,
I've got to **** you.

We found our bodies drowned at
The colorless side of the bottom of Gangga;
As if wars would soon start again
Like when we were older and you sang me
A farewell with such an emotionless voice --
The tuberoses had let you sing the sonnet alone

And since then you could not
Escape the karmic silence;
You began to replace Shiva with the ticking clock which battery's drained;
You ate the mercury, the mercury.
You began to carry your charger everywhere yet I kept
Failing to taste your tongue even for once;
For once I saw the clouds and they're blue
Like eyes of the blonde girl with plastic daisies tucked
On her hair and
Dried forget-me-nots grew on your wet heart;

The Mindanao helped me to get through
But such tight seaweed had tied my feet to you (to get me back to you, to get me back to you);
An island of fears, your homeland; mine; traditional songs and dances I refuse to learn;
City of fire was only your lies.


(I am sorry I got your name misspelled, carved on my soul.)

why did you delete those
don't you dream of something eternal
don't you want to build good tombstone

what else are you erasing
don't you ever feel connected
don't you think you hold us now we fall apart

you realized but when would you accept
our feet covered with salt and sand
our hair the cloud and sun

keep on living
even when only bodies left
if i could i would trade your arms with mine

hating words
i said to myself
but don't remember
what
separated by a glass door
i was outside
i was inside
which of i was really i?
i saw me
trapped outside
absorbing darts of
hatred
such an unacceptable self
i couldn't go in
i couldn't enter
i wouldn't let me to
pools of tears
but eyes not blurry
i still could see clear
i still could feel and hear
the hatred
the muted screams
all the stabbing feelings
invisible wounds, transparent blood
the anger
the fears
what am i afraid of?
it's me
it's me which i am afraid of
oh come on
who is this me and this i?
stop making fun of
me????

my body
is a cry for
help
with hands
as full as
weekly plans
with eyes like
waterfall
in a summer
with mouth as
hopeful as
sunrise
in the rain
empty the
eye sockets
pour the
world into
them - the lover
of surfaces,
masks - the hiding
place

running away from reality sounds nice
i have the doors but not the rooms
it all begins in one sentence
i could have just laughed it off
my, my, my dear funny thing
whom are you kidding?
it's just as ****** up as it is
heart, heart, heart, keep it beating

I am a bible!
I haven't thought about it
But God had said so ---

Death,
Don't die.
Let's have ice,
Or fire.
What's your,
Favorite flavor?
It could be,
Strawberry,
Or coffee.
But first,
Let's answer that,
Telephone call.
Or it could be,
Mango or,
Plain skin cells.
But first,
Don't forget to,
Lock,
The window and,
The that door.

How could you find
beauty in something beautiful?
I once saw a sunset
too glorious, too magnificent ---
The dizzying, striking beauty made me
shiver, tremble,
shudder.
Almost seemed like White's dear Great Evil Queen,
but actually it wasn't,
it was God! Making fun
of your disgustingly ***** sins
And mine, and mine,
and mine --
My eyes burned in fright!
My unconscious teeth --
If only I hadn't closed my eyes
My tongue would bleed and burst
in red, red of the blood clot
And black black shades of my heart
In a twine they are
Matching the cries
of the evening birds
of the dying leaves
of the gangs where children are *****
of the rivers which bottom's made of bodies
The red clotting; Shaded it black
Black black of the foolish, blunt heart ---
If only I hadn't closed my eyes
I would have been beautiful
Like the grand, whirled yellow-red sky
The so-called sunset
The God masked in the event of setting sun
And you would see me
And you would know it's impossible
To find beauty
In something beautiful
And you would
Shiver and
Tremble and

Shudder.

Go outside the room
And ask, you understand, right?
Plants make no noise.

I got a smile from a guillotine.
It tasted a bit sour but mostly sweet;
A lemon flavored cotton candy ---

Should I say hi or go away?

Cute guillotine at a cute play park;
Why do I have to meet you at this time?
You call it moment, my dear, a destiny ---

So let's go to another vehicle or
let's kiss and become another spectacle or
let's just keep romanticizing each other ----

*O, my dove, my lovely rose;
My dear guillotine! This neck is waiting.

I sleep at night just like everybody else,
only rougher, harsher, harder
than average. Nothing special
about thinking every night is the last
just so you can fall asleep.
No matter what, morning always comes
the same
for all people.

I meet and talk to people just like
everybody else. Only that I
stumble at my heart, bleed all the time inside.
I keep crying in all the wrong ways,
keep abusing my voice,
can't tell anymore what's incorrect.
So nothing to fix, nothing to be curious about,

there's no question in the first place, only
if
waving is
the
way to
say
goodbye,
would you
consider
me
as the
ocean?

The eye was hurt plenty of times before.
In a hollow filled with nice things,
they overflowed, no one was a baby to a right hand.
In the other hand, field of moms trying so desperately to avoid babies,
moms setting all toilets and fingers as contraception,
moms anxious about boys and suspicious about girls.
Boys apparently had those pregnancy machines and girls were the neutral side,
boys just had to plant smarty seed to see what number would show in girls' innocent tummy.
Boys grow as engineers and the engines often roar like crazy,
though it is now different from what I was taught about girls.
-----------
-----------
Skin was just some other walls,
but, really, skin is marshmallow
even the softest tongue can destroy.
You know, tummy
isn't that really innocent either.
Tummy was a determined sister in a dim church,
tummy was mother mary and holy spirit,
tummy was not an apetite for what wasn't in the tabernacle.
Tummy now has cracked her shell, so I see inside,
apparently tummy has some other things beside a fertile empty land.
The gases and the blood are in different tunnels, though
there is something else about miss tummy womb.
She isn't at all neutral, she isn't at all an item of the season.
She softens every time it rains, she makes
her own weather in her own territory.
I now know, neutral was only the word stuck between scared parents' teeth,
neutral was only the gift we didn't know was a troll,
neutral was only a paradox in the most destructive way possible.
-----------
-----------
Careful with essentially hurtful words, we
sweat, with perfect heat,
as the skins melt into one giant chewy lump.
What I didn't know about skin was
that girls had skin too,
girls just were not in their element back then;
I think girls with metallic things were sinners just a little bit too checkmate,
I think girls were housewives just a little bit too godlike.

1 a.m.
"sylvia plath aesthetics" on google search
overwhelmed by the pages excerpts
click a link
close the tabs
tosca curtains
tv sound
smoking brothers
polka dot pajamas matching the face
wonder if the mirror would break today
religious villa
wide glass windows not high enough
useless hills
some are sleeping
shy ghosts
panic attacks
catch breath like solar cells
sunless
penniless
nostalgic sourness
hydrogen chloride solution in water
stomachache
period 4 days late
muscle spasms
skeletal recreation
fireworks
involuntary flow of old stale traumas
haven the escapee
banana diet and menopause
blank tombstone: a perfect biography

you know better than me
everything you do has meaning
every step you make is correct*

eyes don't lie, only hard to understand
chasing illusion
too off, no control

a sea of worries
fall in, deeper, deeper
looking for easy way out

eyes wide open, filled with salt
it's red, full of genesis
tastes sour, just right

I'm not a wave, I'm not the sky, I do not change, I stay, I do not go, I do not run, I do not walk, I do not move.
I am the work of your palm, your girl, a clay, heavy yet easy, one time I am burnt but end up having soul.
Just like Pinocchio my nose grows longer everytime I lie, so when I try I give up, when I remove my nose my tongue gets off too.
Just like Pinocchio I want to be a good child, to make you proud. Just like Pinocchio I have no brain, no any trace of your H. sapiens DNA, you did not give me that well.
Only these fingers are right, only these fingers are going to reveal the truth I've failed to chase.
These fingers have blood, bones and skin. These fingers have their own brains to work for me when mine is gone.

I am your tombstone, you don't want to admit you are a narcissist, I admit it instead.
Right in front of you is the lake, it is really me, you do not reflect, I drown in me instead.
The tale is near the end, it's all political act, when I shut down I do not, when I sleep I do not, I die, I die, I did not live, have never done.

You died in the middle of the sentence
O, slashing sound, how refreshing!
O, ocean breeze, I can feel the salt
filling the pores of my scratched skin
How adorable is the blue, blue, blue
O, when you fly and fly and the blue turns into emptiness ---
The outer space, my dear! So black;
So black no sky could squeak through
You died before you'd seen the stars!
-----

Smashed soul and come back to Mama
The womb is no longer your place
But you can decorate it all the way you'd like!
What is mine is yours, except
for the pain and wounds --- But you
can collect the scars like butterflies or the postage stamps or -- what is it again?
What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama

The warm soup is now cold
I'll add the ice for you if you want it colder
I'll add my heart to it if you want it coldest
What is freezing but not frozen?
What is it? What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama

I killed her, i killed her
But she isn't dead*
My death, my death,
I killed her
But she isn't dead

it rains hard
the barren heart
it starts to flood
house of darts

ii.

my heart stops
at the bus stop
it is a jam
that has no end
other than of the world