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Alicia May 16
today to reduce the friction ,
i imagined his hands were yours
his rapid gasps as your
slow sweet melody in my ear
a song familiar yet distant

it’s like the time we spent listening to loud muffled music through closed doors
we knew all the words but all we could hear was a thudding beat
and softened lyrics
or when the living room tv played an instrumental that i twirled to
in the kitchen over coffee
distant and soft
most things with you were like that
my version of you was like that

who you are to the world is an armor
a protected identity
all present and sharp
formed from your roots
spoken through a body canvas
and select dialogue
displayed in your recreations of
what you want so desperately to be
but underneath the armor is a warm bed
a dimly lit lamp covered by a bandana
a deep belly laugh with reservations
tears and fears and everything lovely

so when they ask me “do you miss him”
i will gently answer “no”
for one simple reason that
the “him” i loved died when he gave me a last distant and soft goodbye
Alicia May 7
they say time heals
but every day without you
a piece of me flakes off
i’m dead skin
an ***** once used for protection
now purposeless
sometimes floating through the air
sometimes intertwined in dust bunnies
but always still dead
Alicia Dec 2018
the sunsets and the sun rises
creating each day and each night
and not once does it ask permission
the night will still be pink with light pollution
because of the single office illuminators,
found in every breathing building
the night shift family I never met,
will still glow behind little screens
or candle light thought bubbles and ink
the morning will still spill coffee all over him
but only on mondays, when he’s running late
mondays will always come
sunday mornings will still petition against alarm clocks
and sunday, hereself, will always win
it will rain and it won’t
either way, without me
a.m.
temporary title
  Nov 2018 Alicia
Sylvia Plath
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
  Nov 2018 Alicia
The uniVerse
Her name was autumn
her hair a colour auburn
like a fallen leaf
drifting on the breeze
spiraling spiraling
out of control
a free spirit
with a wild soul
for she had no master
a limitless beauty
all I heard was her laughter
as she danced for me.
https://www.instagram.com/p/ByEKYRYnBmG/
Alicia Nov 2018
i’m no good, femme fatale
i bring hand grenades to dinner dates
beauty icon — kiss my cyanide flavored lip gloss
let’s bump uglies, ******* & rat poison
leave this world left hand *******
right hand intertwined in yours
i’m in a damaged goods costume
take away some letters, my clothes
and i’m just dam good
leaving you on your knees, begging to fix me
begging to **** me
I don’t follow the rules
I use my mouth on you
opened up and emptied out
just to fill me up... with your blood
femme fatale, equipped with fangs
and the ability to not give a ****
an ode to the ***** i used to be, rip


this is more of a spoken word poem
Alicia Nov 2018
fishnet qualities
only giving a **** about *******
always plucking skin from my teeth
sewing them together
my leatherface trophy for happiness
a mask worn, disguised as lust driven love
unknowing victims
cutting their own hearts out for me
a symbol for the empty cage, the broken door, the night mine walked right out of my chest
not stolen, or given, just tired and ready to leave
I let it go, without a goodbye
put on my fishnets
and welcomed lust for dinner
& we back
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