the back of his neck reminds me of you
coffee shops with tables
by big windows
project your face onto my irises
elbows on your knees, smiling at me
closed lips
and i no longer wonder how much was false
but which parts:
i've come to realize that it's not a question of quantity,
it's just when
how
where
in that cafe?
on your living room floor?
in the dark theater
your hand on my thigh
staring at me
like you couldn't see
the 50 foot screen
just the furrow between my brows,
the kisses that lay in drifts
on my bottom lip

and that stark contrast
in our last theater together
your eyes forward, determined
looking anywhere
but at my face

strange little reminders
much less frequent
much less romanticized
your words sound
like the sappy tumblr post
i once accused them of being
i see the backs of them
and they truly are
empty
like i was so afraid
they were

motivation in its final form:
coffee dregs at the bottom of my mug.

thick eyelids, oily skin
heavy head.

motivation in its final form
marijuana filled cars
dark,
blurred,
incoherent laughter.
relaxation.

my mind never stops running
and you cross it like red dye:
garish
my eyes won't close anymore
like some sort of nightmare
and honestly i'd prefer a nightmare
because at least i'd be able to ******* sleep

i do this for you,
sotere.
everything i do,
every paper,
every project,
every sleepless night

dad.
i promise
you'll have a house with a farm,
a truck.
rest.
no more weird houses
sliding gently into the ocean,
i'll tie them down.

maybe it would have hurt if you said goodbye.
as is, i feel a hollowness but nothing more.
no need to pursue
no need to frantically call you
text you
message you
beg you
i have no need
no need
no need
please
please
please
let me let me
let me
get what i want this time

cocooned in march 2014.
i expanded and never left the nest that i suddenly found myself in
that i created
(i am only
to blame)

as time goes by
the walls solidify
locking me in
with
**him

oh
so
this is you
asking me
if i give a ****
well
if i did
i would probably
separate
the lights from the darks
when i do my laundry
but
i
don't

if i wanted that kind of love i'd watch a ******* *****.

i can get that any time
any where.

if there is something growing inside of me i won't **** it
it doesn't deserve it
it didn't do anything wrong
i am the one
who did it wrong
i will ****

me

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.

you know that moment
when someone begs you to stay
but you leave
as awkwardly
and quickly
as you can
just because
you can't
emotionally
physically
handle them
anymore?
sometimes i feel like
that's my life
every single
day.

dream that one day daddy will let go.
that he will stop wearing his wedding band and appealing to god
for the restoration of our family.

that family is gone.
we must build a new, smaller one now.
**** mom.

father,
rebuild something else
pray for something else
pray to get past all the **** she put us through
so we can stop looking behind us at the stagnant past
and instead look to make our future better
the part we can actually control.

please,
please...stop praying, dad.
no one is listening.

it's been a while since i've felt worthless.

you didn't do it on purpose

been a while since i cared

if someone liked another girl better

this sounds like a bad taylor swift song

but the sinking energy

and the sleepy ache

the tired unhappiness

i remember it

i usually cried

i don't cry anymore

because no one matters to me

least of all you

i knew i couldn't have you

i don't get to have things that are pretty or worthwhile

too ugly

too sad.

brown skin
curly-haired
smile
i sit in a dark car
making a list in my mind
of things i will no longer endure:

manipulation.
intense jealously.
passive aggression.
obsession.
lying.
crocodile tears.
simpering compliments.
cheating (although
i have told myself these things
brazenly
many times
alone
and out loud).

i will only give time to:
kindness.
generosity.
understanding.
empathy.
self care.
motivation.
love for others.
humility.
honesty.
and somehow
lately
(suddenly)
those brown eyes
and that white smile.


i've been celibate since august.
or at least since the first couple weeks
when he begged me to **** him
saying it wouldn't hurt

and since then
i have never felt more barren.
but like abraham
and sarah
i suddenly teem with life

Roman,
(could he make me fall in a day?)
i want to sit in your lap
arms around your neck
watch movies
hit blunts
in bathrooms
(though i know better)
and this website
keeps deleting
the simple love poems
i write about you
almost as if
to warn me
or maybe just
a cosmic accident

but here i am
rewriting for the third time.
because there is something that you understand about me
that even Gabriel The Angel
did not
and perhaps
that is worth writing about

under the moon,
above the moon,
adjacent to it.

listen
to yourself breathe
you didn't leave
see
the dents in the wall
they're what keep you
in this room
in this chalky
worn
hall
can you hear that
in
out
pull in
capture
release
breathing
you're still here
there's no way out
trapped
with this silent shout
of a poem
to keep you company
you
cannot
leave

i'm tired of you.

i wish you'd let me sleep

time to close the knife
let it take your life
another night
you have to do
what is right
for everyone else
you'll be
fine

don't leave me alone
with myself
please
not another
night

tied red ribbons
round my thighs
try to keep them
together

silver knives
paint pretty
red feathers

i didn't forget that i was hurtable
i just forgot that you were capable
now i am in trouble

Days and nights melt together
Into a heavy grey fog

Forgetting how to smile

Your words and your face don't match
Your threats

Forgetting how to smile

I am forgetting how
to
smile

i miss my hair.

i miss feeling healthy.
i miss being able to brush it
and straighten it
even just touch it
without it falling out.

i miss feeling normal
feeling happy
feeling beautiful
somehow he makes me feel not beautiful
maybe it's not even his fault.

march 28th.
things got ****** up then
almost a year ago.
will i let it go a whole year?

i guess it wouldn't be too drastic.
i've already let so many things go.
i don't even remember what i used to be like
this new persona is so consuming.
i miss myself.

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
it was the worst best of times

please don't tell me you'll never lie
everyone lies.
big, small, all-encompassing...
somehow we lie

with our bodies, with our voices, with our emotions
we all lie
it's alright
just don't
tell me
that you
don't

can't read my own poetry anymore
because after about a century we lost the ability to navigate by the stars
all just meaningless figures
lights in the sky diluted by a blue light system that didn't save me.

find new faces to trickle through your dreams at night
better yet,
dispel them all

boys will be boys
and i want nothing of it.

i really should stop
letting you push me around
but you do it
so sweetly
i don't even feel
the pain.

i fell in love
with a split end boy
every time i thought i had him
figured out
he'd run the other
way
i tried to catch him
pinpoint him
put him back
together
but he'd just
change direction
again
so i
cut him off

i remember when i was afraid of losing my virginity.

when i struggled as he tried to unzip my pants,
put his hand up my shirt.

i remember when his harsh fingers against me hurt
and i wondered if i was going
to hell.

i remember feeling innocent.
feeling whole, unbroken, unspoiled

most of all i remember sitting on the edge of the bed afterwards,
staring at the empty space in front of me
and waiting
to feel
something -
anything.

i have not felt since. not the sharp cold november air against my freckled skin
nor the happiness that bubbles and froths
nor the pain in my chest
where i know it should be.

so i create my own pain -
my own feeling
i burn the life back into my wrists. shock myself back into
emotion.
like i am doctor frankenstein bringing back to life the monster -

but this boy keeps killing me
over
and over
and
over

i feel crazy when i try to explain
and you make me feel ridiculous
silly
full of ****
childish
stupid
but i really
really
want you to understand me

i always try to say
if i loved you
i wouldn't leave
but sometimes i leave
even when i love you
i guess i don't know what i'm doing
but didn't i already know that?

It's not like I'm making an effort
It's not like I really care
But sometimes I wonder
If you remember
How my hair
Smells.

It's not like you're someone special
It's not like I've never seen you before
But every time you walk in that door
My heart feels...
Funny.

Maybe it's like you're normal
Or maybe you're just not
Maybe you've got that something...
Maybe you've got a lot.

little ones
don't stay
little ones
soon fade
little ones
are fine
little ones
no one minds

if the soft sweep of hair across my bare shoulder isn't enough to make me feel beautiful
what is?
what is the cost of being comfortable in my own ribcage?

going crazy inside my own head
no one to talk to
no one will listen to me

am i becoming my mother

I know you don't ever listen
I know you don't really care
But that knife,
That knife sitting there...
Might just end my life
Tonight.

If you had wanted me,
If you had only wanted me
You would see
The pain.
You would see
The bloodstains.

Tonight
My head won't stop me
My heart won't stop me
My hand won't stop me
Tonight
This knife
Will save
My life.

smile like you mean it
smile like you can't feel it
smile like the swollen match burns on your wrists smile up at you

I see it everywhere.
I see it when I wake up, on the ceiling
I see it in his face
I hear it in her words.
I see it in your eyes,
When I brush my teeth, it stares me in the face.
This house,
An embodiment
Of how wrong
Everything is.