do you think being at a cliffs edge would benefit or harm my mental health
I think 6 cigarettes this evening is the proper amount to feel like I'm dying
And also forget that I want to
(more than 1200 calories today)
looking over the edge doesnt make me want to jump, it never did
afraid of the fall
but chasing the excitement
****** that I usually find the biggest thrills in pointless acts of love

what do you call that--in the morning?
between dried citrus fruits, orange and
lemon pinwheels strung on fishing wire
persimmon and crystalized cinnabar
soft bread rolls wrapped in muslin
with filtered sun refracting
through the crown glass
around her head like parhelion--
and she touches the spices
sumac, saffron, fennel, mustard seeds
and she touches the dishcloths
and she touches
and she touches
and she touches.

No this wasn't platonic, white and placid
Made out of crimson cherries and blueberries 
It was amplifying, reddish, corrosive as acid 
I couldn't move my jaw, or breathe; I choked 
Like breathing was an illusion I saw before my eye
No! This didn't go away with time.
It resided, very well groomed in my heart 
Oh closely! Listen! Can you hear it beat?
And thump, and pound and pound and pound!
No it wasn't an aimless seed planted perfect 
It was an explosive, a bomb you say! 
What has this world got against my heart? 
It cracked, held still and shattered, by sudden?
No! Well rehearsed plots, undergoing attacks. 
And words came bursting out, 
And blood flooded my mouth 
And specked your charming face . 
And I fell...
Into your arms, you ask?
No! Onto the ground..
Onto the solid ground that kept me company. 
You left, my dear! 
Knowing not! Knowing not! 
How my craze is a realm of love 
And a touch of reality...
Tina RSH ©

over the last few months
you couldn't put a number
to how many times i've thought
about you Matt,

how many angry drives I've sped
through the twisted wind channels
of brush hollow and stood at the
outcrop looking towards the dam--

the ungodly mornings spent staring
at my right arm stretched across the pillow
not even thinking about you but also him

this translucent idea of a man that
might exist, thin as a wafer and
constantly fading

how often i pulled up your name
and stared at the trees in my yard
or the sunsets or the moon that
was gratingly beautiful and was
just ******

but the amount of time it
takes my soul to ease into it is
shortening now, and all the
things I missed back then
the traits and bits that
flew silently beneath
the radar are all coming to
light

and I am realizing how blind
it all was, how constructed
the lies were, how I was
never the perfect girl for you
i just tried so desperately to be--

and the strangest people are
speaking into my life at
the most unexpected moments
I don't think i've got you  nailed down--
could it be that it's because you don't
quite know yourself either?

How funny,
how true
maybe all that this was
and all that you were--
a catalyst on the way
to figuring it out
but I shouldn't give too
much thought to the potter
or the ***

you were a blessing either way.

there is more to it all
than running away,
which i have always
and never done

i used to cap my
bones in steel
wash them over with
milk, stand at the river's
edge and feel myself sink
in the pierce,
without ever wading
out,
you could call it a somatic
symptom, as if blowing away
were a disorder--
and yet feeling heavy
enough to sink a thousand
ships but they
should know i'm
no Helen.

Today I had a physical exam and they weighed me
So I ate my weight later in the day
And spent 20 minutes kneeling over the brim trying to get rid of myself
And congratulations,
I said to myself in the mirror
You're officially in this.
You've created this horror for yourself
Good luck.
(I want to tell this boy about it but he has no place in the corners of my room. I will leave him on the bed
Some things are best left unsaid)