tiltawhirl insides
careening back and forth
opposite ends of spectrum
ugly, bucking horse.

blood of mother run deep
blood of mother run quick
blood of mother run sure
blood of mother run thick...

mother cut me open
as i was ripped from her womb
placed this grisly clown act inside me
left an open wound.

grew to love the hole
grew to let it hide
grew to let all people that i love
stand in line for the ride.

tiltawhirl wants to whirl life,
but blood of mother will drain.
solace in the edge of a knife
solace in the biting, silver pain.

boyfriend will want another taste
before my flag's unfurled
he will want another ride
on the tiltawhirl.

we all float on
all shine on
like the sun and the moon and the stars
like light glinting off the shiny new fender of a car that's going to get me places

i'm gorgeous.
i'm infectious.
i have a beautiful ***
and i can state euthyphro's 5 definitions of piety, *****.

do i look
like i need
your sorry
***?

comfort in my bed
in my phone
in the text that you sent me
that didn't say goodbye
but meant it.

discarded.
empty stomach.
the word mother carved into my arm.
finally proven insane.

chasm carefully constructed with the carcass of our love
lying in the bottom of the shallow swamp water i am grounded in.

alone.
so, so alone.
this white washed prison soaks up the bad thoughts and the blood seeping from the cuts and reflects them back at me
the mirror through which i see our relationship.

you will never
ever
understand the torment i have endured
i would give anything to have simply been a bullied, privileged fat kid.

your apologies will never satisfy the aching block hole that is my abdomen
mostly because you never apologize.

today i wished i could tell your mother that you are a ******.
today i spared you, and cut open my arms instead.

i am not flowery.
i am not poetic.
there are many more adept than me.

i simply wish to express
the best i can through the language that i am confined in
the truth of emotions
the purity of rage.

i feel the hot edge of hysteria beginning to creep in behind my eyes.
i become very still
tense
poised for flight

i do not wish to go to the doctors, darling.
i do not want them to tell me what i am so afraid is true
can we just pretend
one more day?

i hope you find my redhair in the backseat of your car
on your clothes
on your pillow when you lie down to sleep
and i hope that these remnants of me
remind you
that you
******
up