A piece of green pepper
fell
off the wooden salad bowl:
so what?

I did not write a poem yesterday
Because the depression sunk deep
Past my skin, into my bones
And collected all of my happy dust

I am terrified to imagine anymore days
Without poetry, without writing--
Have you ever been utterly terrified
To be without your one love?

I am at a stand-still
With no where left to go
But down
       down
       down.

You are a *******, do you know it?
You've fallen for the one person who will
intentionally rip at your heart, hoping
just hoping, to see scarlet drops of blood
mar the silver blade I wield against you.
Be warned my darling,
I will leave you no dark corner in which
to hide your most tender thoughts.
Compassion runs from my bloodhound heart,
it fears the harsh light,
which I intend to spotlight it with.
Run, run as fast as you can,
I promise you can't hide.

You've fallen for me,
so roll up your sleeves.
Do you believe it's going to be that easy?
The marble veins below my skin
service to carry lead from my heart and back again.

Your sweet tongue can do nothing
to dispel my stoic judgments.
Is it supposed to make me feel soft?
You tell me that my skin is different
from everybody else's.
Mayhap your hands are calloused
from working on cars and
permanently numb from the kisses of
electricity to your fingertips,
still my flesh isn't different than yours.
It's only colder,
and akin to the color of death.
Don't you know that
a hand is just a hand?

Bravery is just a cage of ribs.
Bone is nothing but porous bridges
of calcium and other things
that protect our hearts.
It's fairly simple to stop the muscle
that lets us confess.
The sky looks ****** today,
it's trying to warn you.
Pay attention dear, the fun has just arrived.
Promise not to promise anymore and I'll stop, I promise.
Perhaps the next time you knock
on my heart I'll take the chain off the door.

My heart is above love, or perhaps just under it.
I haven't decided yet.

From the second I wake up it's like I'm in hell
I feel like I shouldn't belong here
As if my place was on another planet
Or six feet underground
It's unhealthy to have this kind of mindset
But then again, who the **** even cares?

F-A-T;
the word stands out
bold in my brain.
Down another
cupcake, another cup
of Coke,
not thinking of the
sugary morsels that run
past my lips until another
pound is added on the
scale.
I'm triple digits;
too big, too
flabby, not small
enough for a
size two dress.
I put a finger down my
throat, but nothing comes
out into the
foamy toilet water below me.
I count each calorie and
gram of saturated fat,
but I always fail,
always binge until I
want to die.
Swim another
lap, run
another mile,
grind bone against
bone with every
strain of my muscle.
They say that I am
healthy,
but healthy is never
thin.