i'd like to say that i've always been into clean living
but there's nothing really clean
about *** on your brother's living room floor
or
making you ache in movie theaters
with just a glance
or
handjobs and ruining your pants
i
somehow have this strange power over men
wanna look into my eyes
when i **** them
like i was prepackaged
batteries included
a little machine
with thick thighs and big lips
and
the prettiest eyes you've ever seen
below your belt
you
hang on my words like they're something
you've never felt
i

have a pretty smile
taste like something you've wanted
but never had
with crinkles in my cheeks and the dimples on my back
i
could make a grown man crack
and i
do -
the middle aged men at my job
love me
wait outside after closing tryna touch me
and i get scared
walking home
fingers shake
in the cold
one mile till i can let go
of the breath
that i hold
and i

try my hand at clean living.
eat salads,
stay home on the weekends
cut off boys
that make me
feel
anything
joe at work
tells me to wear less makeup
maybe then
men won't follow me home
maybe then
mike will leave me alone
stop calling the store phone
looking for the prettiest smile
he says he's ever seen
i stand behind the counter
ready to dial
911
on my screen

clean living doesn't feel very clean
when everyone you touch
has dirt on them
i mean
i don't want to make a scene
at work
i just want to make money
go home
not get hurt
keep my head down
but red is too easy to spot
much easier than i thought

saw your name today on a playlist i made for us,
it didn't sting
didn't even register
as something abnormal
or interesting
for the first time
since august.

i love
my malleable
subconscious
more than i ever loved
you.

that burning moment of anger
before exhaustion sinks me into the pillow
my breathing measured, gentle, slow
is worth it
for the feeling of you slipping into that empty space
behind me
the slight regained consciousness
the animal knowledge
the impression: vague, sleepy, far away as it is
of your body, your bones
your muscles
falling into rest
beside me
is so base
so normal, run of the mill, instinctual
that something in my chest purrs
half awake
as you bury your face
into my hair, kissing along my neck,
my shoulder
wrap your arms around me
tightly
like you have been lusting
for the moment you could indulge
quietly
in the curvature of my hip, the smell of my sleeping
frame
like there is nothing in the world
you'd rather taste
than my skin beneath your tongue

i have black makeup smeared around my eyelids
adding a nice value contrast
to the already present bags
and i know i look insane
and my sweatshirt sleeves are covered in teardrops
and my head ******* hurts

and coffee doesn't replace bloodcells
like i wish it would
coursing through my veins
perpetually awake
hiding from the nightmares
that have set up shop
behind my eyelids

and the moments leading up to success is pure torture
it's a lot of waiting
and quiet, violent, personal burning
effigies that i didn't even know existed
being sacrificed
coming to the slow realization
that i cannot exist as a cartoon character forever -

i must jump the page.

If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
                       tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
                              throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
        and love
and love

our phones draw these strange lines late at night
connecting adjacent moons
stringing us together
across cities, towns, lakes, hills
and we tie the bows with our lips
weave the ends in our tongues
taste every city
we can remember

you feel so kindred
so close to me
that when i hang up
i half look for you
in the room
before i catch myself

my feelings are fledgling.
(or i like to say they are)
the truth is, they are very much there
but i'm unsure of their exact nature
concerned that i am unable to experience love anymore
personally
it's like a flavor
i've run out of
and some sort of bad tasting, weak trickle
pours from my lips
to yours
clinging
to these strange lines

i hope
it is not
true

please spare me
from every man
follow me
in the bright walkways
the crowded cafes
through every snapchat
message
i am afraid
of losing so much
again
lord,
protect me
i have nothing else
to plead to