Maybe the sun is a coin
In the palm of some careless god.
Something he holds
Without realizing
Something he feels the texture of
For comfort
When the cosmos
Presses in.

Maybe the sun is a coin
Never spent because it
Burns holes in pockets-
Maybe we stand on a great blue marble beside it
Watching it slip away
So much loose change
Rattling around
Waiting to be bartered.

Maybe the sun is a coin
On the tongue of someone who should have been
Our father.
Maybe
Having been saved for so long
Hot and shiny as a penny
It pays his way across the River

And maybe we remain
Smooth and blue and lost
Having fallen through a tear in the lining of his coat.

for me, it has always been
an ocean, a sea, a body of
salty water. for me, it does
not matter if it's just a little
a little wave is shaking my entire being
imagine i
have to stand tall in a surfer's board, i
am drowning. i am drowning
can't save myself

so funny how i feel so small
with such a large body
how i feel powerless with
such a strong hip
how i feel empty with
out a gap between my thigh

s

for me, it has always been
the ocean, the sea, the body
of salty water. i want to wear
so little and show all skin. i
want to be seen. i want to
be all skeleton and float like a lifesaver.
but i
drown
i drown
i keep drown
ing. i drown. i am drown. drown

my body, once again, got in the way

of all the softness i can hold in my hands
this is what i seek the most

height, broken neck
i want to hit the water and be embraced
by all the cold, the harmful liquid
damage me more so i can't look at the mirror anymore

my body. it got in the way

of all the softness that i can hold in my hands
won't you stop by and say hi sometime?

this is worthless, for me to leave
i don't cut my hair, nothing has changed

i've been longing for the moment that i'm
finally neutralized

drink me like milk, i want to flow
through your tunnels
warm, smooth, and fatty
i want to find what's on the other side

i held my breath, but it's pointless
no one cares if i'm breathing anyway
see my body once again it got in the way

come, all the softness that i can hold in my hands
come, my forlorn hosanna
come to my throat and i'll drink you like milk

I feel much heavier these days
I sleep a lot, and I paint with browns
Light ochre and soft greys
You tell me that's what you've noticed, anyway.
I forget to do my nails, and leave my hair up
Let it grow out and longer than it suits me.
Sometimes you tell me things have changed and tightly hold my hands -
I laugh and pretend I don't understand.
I used to read a lot, read to you -
Anything I found, poetry and song lyrics
And books I'd bought, or old ones that i'd suddenly see anew
when I'm seeing you,
over the top of the pages
Sitting opposite me crossed legged
Mimicking my voice
Laughing till we're both lightheaded.
Years ago you used to replace the flowers in my bedroom every morning
I told you to stop and that lilies were getting boring.
Today I got up extra early and painted my nails fuschia-pink
And cut big handfuls of daisies for the vase above the kitchen sink
When you came down from bed I looked at you over the pages of my book and said
"Remember this?

Today I look at you
& I know it was real
You were there
Now here, unchanged

& my heart is relieved
That you wear the same name
I used to keep safe in my mouth
The same hands
You used to collect my strands of fallen hair

Still
I dare not to touch you
Even for just one more time

No
Not today

Today I look at you
With eyes as innocent
As a curious child
& hold myself back
Like a dog beaten a hundred times

& I remember
& I know it was real

I think my lips are chapped because I've kissed so many boys who don't love me.
You ask me 'what do you taste like?' I don't think its very **** to say regret and sadness.
You say 'when can I taste you' My taste has been passed around so many tongues there is nothing left for you.

He tells me 'I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you' as he kisses my neck. The next week the bite mark on my belly is fading and I can barely remember the colour of your eyes.

My sister says 'you will change your mind' she says, 'all woman want to be mothers'.
I have stumbled in at 4am with the taste of strangers in my throat to see my mother sitting upright waiting for me, I think of the night I spent crying on my mothers lap in a&e;, certain I couldn't make it through the day, the way my brother scowls at my mother, my sister telling her that 'you could've done more, you could've walked away.' I. Dont. Want. Children.

My mum tells me she is old, she is tired. She desperately needs a man to hold doors open for her and carry her shopping. I am trying to remember that needing someone does not mean you are weak.

My grandmother gave me waist beads to encourage fertility. She says 'god gave you those hips to birth children'. Ive never told her that i lost my faith in god the year i lost my virginity.  And if there is a god, i don't want his ******* fertility. I want to break these beads and let drugs engulf me to prove my grandmothers blind faith wrong.
I laugh and pray before our meal and kiss her forehead, 'god bless'.

He tells me 'i know youre *****, its natural'. I laugh and play along for his delight. 'women are just like toys, television, easy puzzles'. I think of my father beating my mother, my fathers face all the men ive walked past in the street. My mothers face is my own.

'if you don't want boys to touch you you shouldn't wear tight clothes'. I think of all the boys who have run their fingers over my back when i was dressed in clothes from neck to ankle. I wonder if god is a sexist man. I wonder if there's any men who aren't implicitly sexist.

He tells me, 'I'll spend hours on you, I'll make you believe in god again'. There is nothing I can do but laugh. I ask him, 'does your mother know you speak to girls like this?'
He ***** his teeth, 'do you always have to be so difficult?'  
I kiss him but I think of his mother, foreign and lonely, 2 sons and no husband.

He says 'you need a real man' I think of all the other boys who have told me that before leaving me.
He wants to know why I'm in hospital so much, 'how are we going love each other when you can't tell me what's wrong with you' I don't want to tell him that I've cut my arms so badly I can see god in my blood, and sometimes the voice in my head screams so loud I black out. I kiss his chest. He doesn't ask again. I resent him for that.

I've been ignoring my fathers phone calls for two weeks because his voice sounds like absence and I don't want to hear another 'I love you' from a man who doesn't know my secrets.

THE LETTERS ARE MY BREATH I CANNOT CATCH, I WAS KILLED IN MY HOMETOWN AND IT MIGHT BE ANOTHER TOWN OF CATS I RAN AWAY FROM. I HATE TRAINS. I HATE WHAT I CANNOT TOUCH. FLICKERING. FLICKERING AND SCATTERED. WE ARE ALL SACRED IN THE NAME OF EARTH. BUT EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT. EVERYTHING IS SCATTERING AND FLICKERED. UNLESS YOU.
YOU SHOOK ME LIKE NO ONE ELSE.
YOU SHOOK ME LIKE NO ONE ELSE IT'S ALMOST LIKE A LULLABY. ARE YOU MY FATHER? ARE YOU MY FATHER BECAUSE YOU WERE BORN LONG BEFORE I EXIST? ARE YOU MY FATHER BECAUSE EVEN YOU ARE YOUR OWN FATHER? TAKE CARE OF ME. PLEASE. TAKE CARE OF ME AND TALK TO ME AS IF YOUR TONGUE IS A BOWL OF MILK.