she licked her lips, tasted a pinch of salt.
"i’m not like other girls"
isn’t that what every other girl says?
****** bambi eyes, eyelashes curled in a q.
he drinks until she cries, scared she will be
shot. imagine pretty little petals upon pretty little
thighs.
"i’m not like other girls"
ringlets, hair bouncing waves upon waves upon
ocean, sea, tidal
waves.
he smokes until she dances, in circles, through
vapors, underneath a table that holds too much
quick *** and liquor.
"i’m not like other girls"
and he could have said, “i’m not like other boys”
but he was broke, in denial, in and out of love, in and out of
hotel rooms.
words sound so much more appealing in darken
rooms.
"no, bambi dear, no you’re not."

i never feel more free then when
i’m driving with the windows down,
my hair cloistered among my face,
i will walk with a look of infidelity.
cheeks pinched pink plush, eyes are does waiting
to be shot.
i never feel more free then when i’m
driving.
because i can stay among the road, scream until
my lungs turn to ash,
or i can swerve
and taste the Earth
itself.

boys lips are never like yours,
darling.
yours are two peach slices, with a
pop rock in the center.
sizzle, fizzle, dissolve.
fireworks, explosives in our mouths
till the comets reach our eyelids.
boys lips are never like yours,
darling.
their tongues throttle,
yours the snake between the bushes.
teeth unfurnished,
yours insatiable.
boys lips are never like yours,
darling.
yours are the candy that i’ll chew
until i’m sick.

He was angry because the boy with glasses and a gamer shirt had told me he wished he had a girl like me.
It’s not you, it’s me. And the fish bowl that was twice the size of your head.
Punching the wall, I knew
jealousy was a
understatement.
it crawls under your bed and waits until it is four in the morning and you have nothing left
Except tears and yearning for something different,
yet you know you cannot have anything different,
because the thought of mornings without him,
and the thought of phone calls absent of his vocals
makes you want to rip open your ribs until you color his
freckles.
He was angry because he was threatened,
and it was so stupid, so animalistic.
I am not territory, not a tree you lift your leg to mark on.
I am a human, a human, a human, I just want to be
loved.
the door broken, his lips bleeding,
he kissed me until I thawed.
his shoulders shook as he cried and cried and cried,
please be mine, please be mine, please be mine.
jealousy is what we romanticize about,
yet it is the monster we will
become.

i guess i got wings inked on my shoulders,
because i think i’m some walking talking
stumbling
paradox.
one day i’ll fly away,
but crash into buildings, scraping elbows among
shattered car windows and
street lamps waiting to
die.
i’m a **** growing among rusty brick buildings,
admired, but confused on which way to
grow.
i am the sock that has no match,
i do not fit, the one puzzle piece that cannot squeeze.
sticking out awkward, desperately clinging on.
no more questions, no more assumptions.
you laugh because i have wings,
i cry because all i see are
feathers.

no, no, love,
tonight, we are going to become the monsters
we hid from when we were
small.
do not be polite, do not kiss softly,
make me bleed, make me vacant,

let’s release our demons.

once upon a time, he called me Jasmine. princess,
rub my lamp to see all your wishes
come true.
i had red nails, they stained the walls as he kept saying
"you’re so lovely, you’re divine".
drown me until i fill myself with
waste and
melted snow.
maybe i am the ***** you always thought.
i walk among foggy sidewalks, breached with beer
and lust. i was once a girl who wanted it all.
now i just want a drink in one hand, yours in another,
neon lights penetrating, entering,
and you calling my name until i cannot hear anything
else.
i have demons, ghosts, parasites.
i drive them away with butcher knives and spider mascara.
won’t you stay a while,
darling?