i am a wild, tearing black hole without you
stumbling over words
listlessly letting the ceiling absorb me.

with you i am whole,
but so full of hate
that i feel it rising up
springing from my tongue
filling in my eyes
blackening my cheeks.

there is no win-win for me.
destruction and burning agony either way.
i do not understand
why i need you so...
you who ***** so much more
than just my body.

that's right.
drink, boy.
drink like it matters
because it did.
drink like you did something wrong
because you did.
drink like i'm crazy for a reason
because i am.

just because i'm your girlfriend
does not mean it wasn't molestation
wasn't ****
you knew
i was frightened
you knew
i didn't want it (a small part did, but does that matter?)
you knew i would be too scared to say no.
because i was a little girl inside
brave face on the exterior
shivering saint interior
you plucked my bud with hard fingers against me
fingerprint bruises on my arm
bitemarks on my neck
the cut marks on my thighs were not your doing
i did those
myself...

redemption is hard to find.

i didn't place the blame on you
gently
like a folded
napkin
i dropped it on you
like a boulder
why can't you just
take it
for once

will i allow one year to pass?

will i go out to dinner and celebrate my weakness
celebrate my futility
smell the roses
that reek of decay

maybe i will.
and then in march
celebrate the day he forced his hand down my pants
in april, the day he taught me to use my mouth
in july, the day he popped what he fondly called
the christian girl's "buttcherry" to his friends
or september, the day i was so desperate to remember how to feel
that i tried to jump start my heart
by letting him finally take my virginity

guess what?
it didn't work.
it made it worse.

now i wait for the searing, pounding, aching anger
to remind me that a heart beats in its empty, echoing cavity
anger is the only thing that reminds me i am human
that i have the capability to feel
to be hurt, but not to be vulnerable
no,
to be hurt, and to hurt in return.
yes, this is what makes my heart beat again.
this is what keeps me alive
i thrive on the thought that he will suffer for what he did
like i suffered
for what
he
did

life isn't fair, is it?

today
you said
no,
red doesn't love me
she feels sorry for me
i'm like a
*******
puppy
and i
looked at you
wondering if you'd read my mind
or my poems
but came to the conclusion
that you hadn't
even though you'd hit the nail on the head
twice
you missed the part
that meant something
if you had read my mind
or my poems
you would know
that i do love you
in a strange
sort of way
i love you
like i love my baby brother
like i love a puppy
like i love forrest gump
like i love
anything
that i have ever loved
that is how
i love you

slippery
body-less.
mind weaving back and forth
making me see-sick.

every grade i've ever received
branded into my skin
birth defects my mother left me.
every huge C on my forehead
every tiny A, hiding under my arms
every moderate B on my stomach.

panic.
panic.
have to be better
have to be greater
have to be smarter
funnier
happier
prettier
better.
have to be better.
have to be better to save daddy.

work harder.

panic.

tomorrow i will be
magically
sick.
sister,
enough of you
have made it clear
that you don't want to stay with us
because it's hard
to deal with hurt people
i ******* get it.
but if i have to deal with hurt people
for the rest of my ******* life
because you got to leave
and left me
here to deal with it all
then you can at least bear it
for one ******* week.
you will not
be seeing me
enjoy
your avoidance
of reality
enjoy new life
while the old ones
die
i guess you're going to invest
in aubree's baby
i guess me and dad
are too far gone
i guess you've
given up
on us
i'll give up on you
first
just give me
a minute
or two

cry all your make up off
before nine am
just because
you remembered
your littlest brother's
face.
nice job,
brain.

singing your guts out on stage...
musical throw up that people like to get splashed with
gushing
rushing
pounding in your chest
standing straighter than you ever have before
four
hundred people standing to their feet to applaud the glorious beast
that just burst forth
from your
lungs

there are some people
that you know
you should feel sorry for
like your mother
who's cleaning out
your old room
in the house
she kicked you out of
and crying
but i can't feel sorry for you,
mom
you've made it
impossible.
what i lived through
then
was nothing
compared to what i had to live through
when you left
the worst part is
i didn't live through it
i'm a ghost
a shadow
a short lived
glinting
ray
of what i used to be
and it's all
your
fault.

little rock clinging to long grass.
holding each other on the couch,
seeking solace.

rain pattering outside
wet mineral air drifting through the porch screen.

how can we compensate
for the evil we both committed?
how to remedy
the craters that we have conjoined
in our chests?

searching for the truth in the ache
pondering the wonder of the gaping facade that lies ahead
crying on the couch.
holding
hoping
crying

small raindrops hitting my cheeks instead of tears
leaning against you in the spring night time...

solace.

virginity lost,
virginity found.

solace.

these aren't things
he understands
all he feels
is how cold my lips have become
uttering words
i've swallowed
for years

and he'll reassure me until i want to scream,
vocal chords shredding
temples pounding
i don't care if you'll always be there for me
i don't care if you'll never leave me
i don't care
about what you have to say anymore
your words chafe my mouth
like sawdust
dry, tasteless, choking
i can't breathe
your hand on my neck
because you love me
getting tighter
the more i pull away
i wish you knew
what all of this
feels
like

i love it when you sing to me
straight melodies
floating two hours
to my attention-seeking limbs.

charmed lines traveling through digital thoroughfare
lighting up my bedroom
with our ALL CAPITAL LOVE AFFAIR
i'm okay with it

i'm past the point of wanting to be moral
i want to enjoy all the decadent sins that have danced on my t.v.
for decades
sampling the plump fruits and and round desserts
bubbling with juice and flavor.

all my life i've been told i would regret their taste
i would regret the moment it melted in my mouth
turning to ash
but it goes down smooth
and with rich taste
no trace
of ash or decay

morality is the illusion,
not sin.

want to run back to the frozen frame in late may
shadow on the solid ground with a red tentative foot trying to move forward.
silent frame
quaking inside
tumultuous, skitter-scatter thoughts that always made me doubt my sanity.

want to run back and hold me
want to run back and tell me that to err is human
to doubt is to begin to see the wrong that is happening all around you
to scream is to know
that you are in it
and to know that you are in it
is the first step in getting out

want to run back to that freeze frame
hurt him
hurt him till his face is a blur
so i don't have to see it in my now quiet, late-night thoughts
any longer.

wish his face were gone.
see myself ruining it over
and over
i don't want to be a murderer
but what you did to me
placed such hatred in my heart
that the light cannot comprehend
the darkness that lies dormant.

god is supposed to change things
make things better
if we ask
i have been asking
for a long time
nothing is better
but i'm still sure
you're up there
what are you thinking

i wonder if all my friends
can see me slowly dying
in front of them

but it seems the more despondent i get
the louder i am
in public
i am trying to drown out
the depression
but it likes to pounce
when i am alone
but i can't stand being around people
all the time
but
but
but
i am too tired
for any of this

lost all ambition
by 8 o'clock in the morning
my condition
is getting worse
and by condition
i mean the fact
that i've realized
that this isn't where i want to be

if you don't have family
you don't have anything
i don't have
anything

They filled you up
too much
now you have to cry
the constant
"Them".

i took
2600mg
of ibprofen
and my body feels numb
i wonder
how much more i can take
until the big lake in my chest
that is trying to escape out my eyes
will feel better

it feels good to sob.
the familiar tomb-embrace of my room
comforts me
but i want to take my heart out
with this knife i cut my arms with
and step on it until it is quiet.

someone make me feel better
anyone
please
.

i have always believed in signs.

me finally giving you your jacket back

the day before this happened

lets me know

that it was meant to be

somehow

that makes me feel

better

if anything

ever could.

there are a lot of people in the world that you don't need
and that don't need you
but i have never been good at figuring out who those people are.
i let all of them stay
and pull me, drag me, **** me
back and forth and up and down until suddenly
they are telling me they love me
and i am saying it back
because there's nothing else that can be done.

my head and my heart know that i don't truly love them like they love me
and that in the end i will stop replying to messages
and make up excuses for months
and months
and months
until they just stop trying
and that i will end up hurting them more by allowing them to love me and then leaving
but i cannot close myself off to them.
i have declared myself public property
everyone gets a piece of me
to place their country's flag
divide me up like a chocolate bar
eat me in one melted bite.

i wonder when there will be nothing left
to give.

definitely
my fault
this time
you call that
trying?

monster in my tummy
trying to get out
i am not
allowed

you made this.

so revel in your creation, doctor frankenstein,
it was not i who chose to come into being.

you forced me into creation,
and now you must live with my screams in the night
my burnt wrists
and the haunt of a smile that lingers in my eyes -

you did this,
not
me.

it feels like i lose blood each time
like the pastor's daughter once told me
(a wide-eyed ******)
that each man we give our hearts to
keeps a piece in their pocket
and that if we give too much
we'll have nothing left.
and maybe that was just christian *******
trying to make me fear the loss of my virginity
more than death
so that when i was *****
when i was 20
i was silent
and ashamed
and the blood i lost
came from between my legs,
not my chest.

but my heart is different after this last one,
so maybe she was right after all
and after him
every time someone kinder
is intimate with me
i feel like my hands are covered in gore
and when he takes them
they slip
muddy his shirt
his hands.
and that's something i'd never want
to inflict -  

i grew up being told
my sins
were covered
in blood
as i grow older
i am convinced
it's true.

i never felt like the world was small enough
or vulnerable enough
or alone enough
to reach out and pluck from its holder
like an ill-fitted candlestick
but now that God has become a wooden statue
now that God no longer seems to breathe
or even be there
at all
the world is something that i see as
contained
crowded
dull tasting
like soda that has gone flat
and without
resolve.

i could pick up the world now, hold it in my hand
look at it
laugh at the small people
take a bite out of it
like an apple;
the world doesn't frighten me.
doesn't inspire me.
doesn't hold me.
doesn't care about me.
the world is

empty

today i stole
a glory-of-the-snow
from someone's
front yard
put it to my nose
smelled...
mcdonald's fries
instead of nectar
(oh well)
the rain
on its petals
wet my lips
and i
spat out
a glistening
poem.

broken arms
do you harm
do your worst i'm
heaven cursed
heaven cursed

on the bright side i
fall in line with
other faces
screaming dots
on the bright side i
find my place in
darkened corners
hiding spots

broken arms
do you harm
do your worst i'm
heaven cursed
heaven cursed
do your worst.

in this life we're allowed some gnashing of the teeth
but i'll be the first to admit
that these three months there's been far too much
and that the red stains in the shower
are just streaks of lipstick
running down my palms
as much as i wish
they were something more perverse

as much as i pull at my hair,
let hot water
scald my *******
measure out each strand
only to cut it
making sure
anything you touched
is crucified

as much as i try to claw
my own skin off
in the shower
let it dissipate
down the drain
as much as i gasp,
scream
anguish
let the hot water
cry for me
as i have nothing left
to rip,
tear,
gnash

as much as i wish
i'll be the first to admit
that i lust for the butcher,
tonight

that this water
is not hot enough
that my own hands
are not rough enough
that no cigarette lighter
stings enough
no knife
bleeds enough
and i lust
for the butcher
tonight

everything leaves a heady
sickly sweet
aftertaste in my mouth
like whatever i ate
didn't want to go down
lord
help me
breathe

as i pack up another cement walled dorm room
a year later
a different boyfriend in my wallet bringing me boxes
and saying he loves me
i am much happier, although not perfect.

and with this fact, i am alright.
i realize that it's not overnight
that i learn what real love or correct treatment is
i realize that although this one ***** me too
it was only once
and not for a year and a half

i realize that this dorm room brought me endless smiles
held me in its small, funky walls and beat up closet doors
held friends and memories and all my strange habits
lovingly in its embrace
for 9 months
and now it releases me to the fold of summer
where i will begin once more
only different.

in going home for the summer
much unlike last year
i hold my freckled cheeks high
shoulders back
stomach still uneasy
still pained,
but with the assurance that it will go away.

in going home for the summer,
i hold all the beautiful things
and the pain that greets me like a dog that awaited my arrival
in my chest
gently
respectfully
more maturely
than before.

one more step up the stairs
little red is closer to peace
not there yet, but closer.

take that small handful of light
that you found
on your afternoon walk
put it up in a corner
to brighten it
for a bit
hope that it will make you smile
every once in a while
when you feel wrong

i have decided to have a dream
in which i run away
drive for a very long time
in the summer heat
listen to bad music
blare at me
on cracked roads
until i arrive
at the sea
where i will jump in
and let it hug me
until i no longer
breathe

you're failing
you're failing
you're failing
says the desk
the paper
the pen
you're failing
says the professor
how's class going
says dad
fine.
great.
good.
fantastic
i reply

sometimes i wonder about you
if you're still where i left you
like my room at home that i leave for months at a time
are you still in the same places
waiting for me to come back
sleep in your bed
lie in your arms
cut myself in your bathroom
burn my wrists on your couch?

i look at the pieces i can still see
and wonder about talking
how you do talk to a ******?
like you talk to anyone?
i should know
of anyone
i was with you
for so
long
before i decided
that i was worth more
than a **** that i didn't even want.

fat girls have it rough.
girls have it rough.
we feel less than human
so unlovable
that even if a man rapes us over and over
but says that he loves you
it's okay
because
he loves you.

clearly
he ***** me
in
love
the purist
form
of love -

lust.

love is just an excuse
to get what we truly want.

if i could have
but a minute of peace
i'd get rid of everything else i own
and buy that moment
to coddle
like a child
until time
seeps out my fingers

i can't remember the last time i felt alright...
like things were working out.

because after mom it was ryan
and after ryan it was skyler,
and after skyler it was moose
and after moose
there was no God.

now my stomach cannot even bear me
it threatens to crawl up my throat
my insides contort and scream
i will not let the pain out.

bones, oh
bones.
how i wish you would hurt instead
like you did
when i was pure.
instead of an ache,
now i rot.

casually observing my body from the outside
watching me fall apart
my face sliding off my cheeks
my abdomen rotting
my hands and feet lying listlessly against my bedcovers.

i have become a bystander
a slightly curious stranger
keeping an eye on the ****** on the street -
me
watching my antics
wondering at my behavior
cringing at the pathetic pleading that stretches from my eyes
to my toes
to his phone screen

i wonder how long she can carry on
before her head blurs in its motion
before her hands claw together
before she smolders out
a wait and see
sort of game
how long
can she
last
how fast
is too fast
how much
is too much
how long
before he leaves her alone again

i like these
sleeping pills
they actually force me
to close my eyes
i wonder why
i can't ever sleep
really
i am
very
tired
of everything

i used to miss god.
i used to miss feeling like there was something bigger
twiddling the dials
and pointing the guns
orchestrating the earthquakes
creating symphonic tornadoes and landslides.

when i first lost him i missed him
but now i scoff at the idea
that something or someone has planned out the crazed track of humans
a goose-chase in the snow
little fox tracks that overlap
unable to telling who's going or coming.

if anyone is in control he is a madman
playing a fiddle
stroking his bow across our backs
as tormented, we dance.

there is no rhyme,
nor reason
there is only the flawed decisions
our ignorant and selfish brains churn out
minute by minute
second by second
ruining everything around us.

black coffee and asprin for breakfast
and i'm still shooting blanks
pouring it over my face, scalding
dripping down my *******
black coach bags
staring back at you
your hungry mouth
reaching for mine
regardless

the book of love is transcendental
unreadable
blurred pages and scarred notes
frightened edges and scrambled sentences
on phone screens.

the book of love has music in it
songs and playlists we listen to
when the people we love don't talk

the book of love is long and boring
all the upset, angry words we've heard before.

the book of love is tired
of being read aloud.

honey, you are overrated
and overdone
like the fast and the furious
six
you get the job finished
quick
with a big explosion
at the end
which also comes quickly
but not quick enough
for me
and there's absolutely nothing
inbetween
that's why
in the end
you'll leave
and i'll be
glad.

i slip back into my own skin after you leave
pull my scalp over my eyes
look for secrets i once held.

want to pull apart my scarred forearms but i let them be
let them continue to go white
and puckered:
little secrets in themselves.

should i have let you watch?
should i have let you observe my rebirth?
is it coming, after all,
now that i've blinded you?

these secrets i wrap and bind
and create myself.

clutching for knives
in the dark of the kitchen
"what are you doing?"
"nothing."

never used
a serrated edge
it works
too well

Today, I am glad it is winter.
No need to make up excuses for wearing a sweater
Until I am

                                                          

                                                                                                                better.



Little blue vein
In my wrist
Little silver knife
In my fist
I cannot decide
If I want you two to meet
I don't know whether to stay,
Or to leave...
Little
blue
vein




                                                                 bleed out the pain


Because I can't wear a sweater

                                    

                                                                                                                                                                   forever.

the way he says "i love you" makes me weak
his gravelly, city-boy accent trickling through a phone i've dropped more times than i can count.

it survived two heartbreaks and lived just long enough to have the most beautiful words
the most beautiful voice
pour out of it
whiting out the ugly sentences that i allowed it to harbor
for years.

chipped and scratched and kind of slow but now full of some of the most wonderful memories i will ever experience
despite it being given by a boy who ***** so much more than my body
in this boy it is redeemed - i am redeemed.

is something good going to happen now?

so simple, so delicate, so quiet a thought
it makes me cry, because i never thought it would.