I hate the way her eyes scan me over with jealousy. She's so enviousm but what does she think I have that she doesn't? I'm the diluted image of my mother's beauty, yes, & she wants that. But she doesn't realize that full pouting lips, the large startled etes, the palest coffee-cream skin comes with strings attatched, a think contract she has no idea about, full of clauses & fees. the very last page reads 'Amelia', signed with my blood but written in my mother's decided, sure hand. She doesn't see all the chameleon shades in me, or how I need them just to get by. She has no idea of my longing, my yawning morning yearning for the way she's the same girl every day. I admire he belief in (the lie) that no one can **** with her, while every person I meet makes something in me panic, wondering if they'll be the next to discard me after taking me out & finding that I'm both too much to handle & not enough to stick around for. She can shrug off a punch & barrel through a crowd, moses to any sea, any shore she finds herself at the edge of, while the simple swat of an absent hand creates ripples & gusts that send me tumbling, toppling *** over teakettle. She scans aisles of people, tasting, testing any that are above her minimum standard, but I've never had that kind of freedom; I've always been a sample, appetizer, appease me, please me. babe. She knows as well as I do the desperation for approval, for being desired, but the difference between us is that she refuses to change for anyone but herself while I need people to give me someone to be.

It's such a different perspective to see her self-hatred outdoes my own. She's a brilliant, dying star. Vacuuming away all the evil in her, siphoning it through her throat. Flush it down. Pulling apart her bones from the inside out. I can understand that.

I've been thinking offhandedly, not on purpose. Take a deep breath, look up at the clouded sky. The blown, restless leaves endlessly remind me of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Let my mind go blank. Refocus, come back down from wherever I went, finding I've been working questions over while unaware. Autopilot likes to steer toward the ground. I've been thinking offhandedly, not on purpose, of the best way to say goodbye.

I've been dreaming of writing this down all morning, all night. Who's to say I haven't been anxiously awaiting this all my life? To tell you what it's like to hate yourself so much that others become mere blips on the radar; still there, but so unrecognizable. I become unreachable. I've been dreaming of opening myself up, seeing all the things that are tucked inside, away from my reach. They all tell me not to go looking for trouble, but hell, how could it possibly get worse? I'm curious.

Lying here loathing myself for being so pitiful. So pathetic. Part of me knows I am wallowing, stewing, dwelling. The other part knows what they don't: there is nothing of worth  here. Take it all away, no more trying. Drop my cards on the wood between my elbows, stand & take my leave. You guys can split my poker chips. It'll be so...so lovely...not waking up to the bleak, the empty. Not to have to face myself in the mirror, with my troubled eyebrows & worried lips & the nervous twitch of my mouth that wasn't there a month ago. Not to wake up to every 'can't'. Not to stare into my own blank, listless eyes; numb. So mortified of myself, miserable with me, yet so distant, removed, disinterested, distracted.

Please don't be upset if I think of you before I go. Understand that just because I want to die doesn't necessarily mean I want to leave you. Don't count this one last sin; dreaming of my fingertips memorizing the contours of your face, kissing your eyelids, your cheeks, your mouth, your neck, hands, tears. Breathe in the scent of you. Maybe you could give me some courage to hold onto as I let go. Don't penalize me for this, please. Let me live in how much I love you one last time. I'm sorry this hurts you.

I just figured out how to say goodbye.

so much city noise
in the background
something that rarely
well, barely
bothers me anymore

I started to sort through
the junk in my life
put a microscope to it
looked at who & why I am
realized I'm lost & have been for a while
that there were a lot of puzzle pieces missing
& that I didn't know me at all.


But just looking at my life
really analyze the strife
see where I was wronged
see what I made right
& with all the tears I've lived in
see how I finally feel Forgiven?

gold & diamonds in my ear
pages of bile somewhere near
patchwork *******; the words that I spew
strive to be beautiful & deserve you

to die & let them win
Anyone who ever held me down
forced me silent & laughed
when I screamed, cried
for my Absolver, my Salvation,
my knight in shining armor,
my mommy, my daddy,
my anybody.
Hello?
& no one listened.
I wanna soothe myself
for good this time
close my eyes & never open them
eternally dream
swim through the pain
paralyzing ethereal light
pierces my vision
until spots rise up
slowly blots out all
blackness overrides
& obliterates;
snuffs the candle out.
They can't hurt me there.

I live in other people's cycles
my own too spasmodic & erratic
to seem rhythmic at first glance.
I keep rubbing my eyes
hoping to clear the fog
in my mind behind them.
pinch the bridge of my nose
til I focus
bring myself back to the moment
try not to let my Contemplative Life
drift me too far offshore
on this shaking liferaft.
Wipe the sweat from my brow
push myself further, onward
steady, Girl, you've got this.
wear myself out
photosynthesizing information
punch in punch out
exhaust myself
&collapse; in oblivion's
Forever Embrace.

all this time
with the people around me
taking everything sacred in my life
it never occurred to me
that I could give myself
reasons to live.

I gotta be better for myself
take more care of me
inside & out
purify my body
alter my high strung mind
change my surroundings
learn how to sleep
make new habits
give myself things to hold onto
intake, educate; always.
I'm going to lift myself
I have a plan
I swear to god I gotta
push through
gotta
do this for me.
success not mine,
I think I'd
collapse again
but not get up this time
lying there
paralyzed & entranced
by the weight of solid reality
that I am a heartbreak's failure. sweet lullabies
as I lie pained but at ease
trains raced, hearts rushed
    but I remained at ease.

all I dream of is how
he touches me
my weakness
nape of my neck
his hand slides up
God I love it
when he plays me so well
I bite lips
that he said
he loved kissing
my *******
that softly gifted into his hands

all I dream of is how
he touches me

he touches me
my weakness

my weakness
nape of the neck

nape of the neck
his hand slides up

his hand slides up
God I love it

God I love it
when he plays me so well

when he plays me so well
I bite lips

I bite lips
he said

he said
he loved kissing

he loved kissing
my *******

my *******
that softly gifted into his hands

I was happy for the winner
though I hoped
I could cheat my way
out of second place.

she was a tiny little thing
soft thin lips
pale eyes that cut through
my ******* facades
recognizing me inside
because I looked just like her.
the baby with brewing thoughts
mothered everyone else
because she didn't know
how to take care of herself.

Life steals what you want
to give you what you need
but scars you til you're scared
to satisfy your dreams

One day, they'll wake up next to you and look toward you. You'll roll over, all bleary-eyed and drowsy. With your raspy, honey thick voice, you'll mumble good morning into their neck, tell them you love them. You'll run your fingers over their jaw line, lean in to kiss them, and see the hesitation in their eyes. Suddenly, you are wide awake and you question, and your heart races in the most awful way, because somewhere, deep in you, you already know. They can't even meet your eye when they say "We need to talk". And they tell you things that you hadn't even been aware were problems and they say they're sorry, but you know, in your heart of hearts, they're not, really. That's when you realize that everything you thought 'This' was between you was Real for you but Not for them. You realize that they were pretending. You realize you've been used. And then they are getting out of bed and putting on their pants and leaving. The sound of the door clicking shut with everything you thought you had on the wrong side of the door; The sound of the lock finding itself and clicking into place is the exact sound your heart made when it broke.

Every time I hit the ground
I'm surprised.
I keep waiting for someone
to catch me when I fall.

I know I'm not the daughter you always dreamed I would be
but ******* you could have
tried to love whoever
I became
you could have
     tried.

I know I'm not the girlfriend I should be for you
but ******* I have to I
love you so much
I gotta change
I have to
     try.

sleep is the only place I can
not Be.
where I don't cry don't
melt into whatever I'm perched on
coat the top
& soak into the fabric beneath.
I have a chameleon soul
shift into whatever people need (want) me to be
latch onto anyone that (thinks they) can handle me.

mum always breaks my heart
she always knows how to tear me apart

she can very cheerily be so nice
the wrong word can make her turn to ice

most of the time she's distant
solid, fortified, distinctly resistant

but intent on my every word choice
note the changing of tone in her voice

sometimes she's odd, accepting;
after two days she's bored and back to neglecting

searching out 'wrongs', use to ream me
she knows the exact strings to pull and unseam me

and it hurts even worse when I see that she tries
she always gets my hopes up & dashes them in front of my eyes

   then she goes into her fantasy land
   we're Lori&Ror;; Gilmore, talking men

I try to play along; it's hilarious to see
that as hip as she likes to think she is, she's as bad at this as me

Real attachment
Real trust
is hard because
it means I
have to lay there,
trying to believe him,
feel loved.
Try to gracefully accept
the love notes he
leaves on my body:
the physical way he
shows me I am
important.
Truth be told,
the *** is incredible
when there are no illusions
about why I'm there,
naked and stranger,
only valuable
because I'm so
useful & useless.

***** traps set inside
my head. Not my fault
I'm ****** up. But hey,
family is too, I guess.
We still draw the same
conclusions, though
changed, aged, fermented.
Friends intensified & set
in stone by blood
gone bad, past it's prime.
Bonded by abuse & anxiety,
the Brotherhood of spoiled blood.

she poisoned the
sound of my own
name in my ears.
to hear it is to
feel the heart
pick up pace &
see the walls
ease into the
rosy red haze.
(lowering herself
to grace me.
she descends the
stairs that sh
will most likely
stomp & blister through
upon her ascension.
watch as
Firstborn basks in the "Glory")
it's wrong,
the way she calls
for me...
                 ...so why do I always answer?

I find myself in only my underwear (again), bloodletting at 5am, trying my best to let it all out & start anew. Nothing matters & especially not me. I want to die but I don't want to leave him behind. I want to fall asleep & stay there forever, but I love waking up next to him. The sun kisses him as he kisses me. I keep trying to hold the lids of my eyes open but they shut & shut him out. I could watch him smiling across the pillow at me always but ****** I slip back into wonderworld. It's the Nowhere & Everywhere that occupies my every thought, except the ones of him.

I spend twelve hours a day planning my death & twelve hours a day sorting through, preparing for my life. I have two bracelets on my wrist: one reminding me of my friends & the other reminding me of nothing. Isn't that beautiful?

He understands everything about me except how haunted I am. Each time I see him I cry. He breaks my heart but stitches everything else back together again. He tells me I am important & he will never leave me but history stands over my shoulder whispering in my ear reminding me that I am not & yes he will. If I hold up my smallest finger to the looking glass, he on the other side will lift his & pinky promise to stay. Forever. If I throw a blanket up over my head & the mirror, he will do the same & I can finally have him to myself for a few minutes.

Even he wouldn't believe me if I told him how often he saves me from cutting off my crusts, peeling my skins, unseeding & trimming away. When we fight over who loves the other more, we have to give our reasons, back up our claims; each time, he agrees that I win.

every girl just looks so **** good
I try not to be a lion on the prowl
bite my lips & take the drag of a cigarette
I need to help restrain myself, to
breath in the fresh air and constrain
myself; don't pounce girl, you've got this.
but he's still the name I call to while dreaming
the hands I want on me
the lips I need to be kissed by
& the air I dare to breathe.
He is the man who moves me
try to understand, he's the magic man
shifts me inside in ways
no wife I covet can.
He's the one I'm nervous to lie with
scared I'll lose myself in the thought of him
that's all it is, really: the illusion,
the daydreams of a girl who lives
more in her head than in the world
distant sometimes hazy others
& totally unreachable occasionally.
I wish I could have him
under my skin
but I'm not ready
to deal with the consequences
of being his girl.
I'd love to
live beside his shadow
the relief that washes over me
when he says my name
erodes the disorder
lifts my eyes from my feet
makes my heart
swell & body melt.
it's the kind of contentment
that I know will destroy me
in the withdrawl.
it's the kind of baby young love
that encapsulates the happy victims
imprisons you in the sugar & honeycomb sweet wonderland
that turns sour when you relax in the beauty
& forget that lambs
are often lions, too.

I'm not worthy
of his
total affection adoration enthrallment
it isn't fair for him, truthfully, to have the one
who is scared of all that.
terrified to not be the girl who
belongs to everyone & no one at once
the girl who is writhing
trying to hold tight & strangle
the guilt grief regret shame
but also driven by
anxiety that all my writing
suddenly needs to tell everyone
that I am trying & anxiety
that I am so moved by him, the
affected girl who can't
function
walking into the sunset hand in hand.
I seem to fight every step
as if I'm not sure
I feel safe
being near the ocean that lets roam unchained & wild the
sharks, giant squids, leviathans & my beloved giant leatherback sea turtles
so endangered & dear.
The anxiety of the surprise contract to
dedicate every poem to him
& plan a future
without planning an end, too.

hanging from a peg on my wall
the shadow of a cross
featuring the shadow of a man
who was never there for me after all.

I'm dying everyday
drowning with each
pinched breath I take
sinking below myself
caverns & deep sea canyons
open up
offer themselves
as I'm acquainted with
corals & anemones
new friends of me
accepting this shipwrecked soul
just passing through
before settling
wherever my bottom is
every rock I meet
finds me tumbling
spilling out over
heavy enough
that my wreckage
pulls me deeper
leagues farther underneath
finding contact but not finding an end

I used to scream & scream
so angry I found I couldn't stop
crying hyperventilating
maybe to make her worried
maybe to make her notice me
maybe to prove I was crazier than her

I made her cry
   made her go in the basement where the ***** coolers -- blueberry smirnoff, your favorite -- were waiting
   made her silent streaming tears come out & her coffee refilling again + again & her cigarette package needing to be replaced; the basement a hazy cave my mother sat in, silent + unresponsive, smoking constantly crying often rocking back+forth occasionally for four days

                                                                             I win.

I don't remember why I'm ****** up
but my dad told a story
about me once
(my mother failed to report this in my baby book
another disappointment; hardly a surprise)
I was five
didn't want to be Rapunzel anymore
didn't like being trapped in someone else's castle
I cut my long locks off
not waiting for my prince to save me
(ha!)
took the hair to dad
"Bug, what did you do?" he asked
Little girl, so relieved because
"Now I'm not pretty anymore"

dad said I was
a different girl
after that
easily angered
agitated
upset
                        I forgot how to smile

mom I'm your baby girl & you didn't protect me you trusted too much you loved too fiercely & too many degrees close to stockholm syndrome to notice me. I'm your baby girl & I don't know what's going on why I feel this way why I need to touch myself all the time I feel so *****+used+sinful+guilty+unwanted+ashamed but I need it I can't stop. I don't know why I hate people that smile at me, talk with exaggerated chipper voices (it's creepy). I don't know why they always have their hands on me, lingering touches on my head shoulders hair arms whispering in my ears hugging me {i don't know you or like you i'm scared of you get your hands off me everything makes me frustrated + angry + i don't ******* understand anything mum} Wicked Witch of the West you cry & cry all day tell me I'm stupid. You & dad repeat over & over a prayer you always recite when I act up "What in the hell ails you, child?!" you two think I'm flawed, all through & that you can spank & discipline my problems away.

he is well aware others don't approve
& he only hides it because of this
it certainly doesn't affect him
I've seen
in the empty, greedy eyes
the proud look
of what his old plaything
grew up
  --oh, did she ever grow up--
to be
checking me out
when he thinks
I can't see
& sometimes
when he knows
I can.

we were two little girls
whose mothers were both
housewives stuck with multiple children,
bored,
& belonging to a circle
of similarly conditioned women
who liked to sunbathe & smoke & talk
  in the summer
who liked to drink coffee & smoke & talk
  while the other seasons floated past the windows
their kids off somewhere else
hopefully playing & hopefully getting along, too.

we were two little girls
having a sleepover
eating popcorn & watching movies
two hours prior
in my parent's bed
  we were laughing
  carrying on like children do
  duh
she touched where my ******* weren't
told me to take off my clothes
& dance
explored
my little girl body
with her little girl fingers eyes tongue
playing the game
someone else taught her
except this time
she held the cards
she rolled the dice
on her new gameboard.

we showered together
on the uncomfortable
morning after
she reached for me
I stood
transfixed & unsure
watching
submissive, scared, oddly curious.
In hindsight,
I guess I must have liked it a little bit
'cuz I didn't back down. Didn't flinch away.
At least I was chosen. For once. For something.

you always loved me
behind closed doors
you stole what was
to be embraced in me.
the damage was done long ago
you left me to reap what you have sewn.

I was a loaded gun
wept all day
listened to music, wide awake, all night
frustrated, unstable
the family Problem
not understanding
the sensations I was experiencing
innocent
                 (not anymore)
of knowing
just how long you fall
before you see the rocky bottom

I don't remember why I'm ****** up, but I know Who it was & somewhat of the things he did to my mother. My father only told me in order to premonish, to put a parental advisory sticker on my censored memories. I'm afraid of the monsters I don't see, lurking in the corners of me. I have a glimpse into the perversions of the world; a look into the mind of an Entitled Man, who thinks he had the Right to take what others don't have the ***** to admit they like

plastic dreams & magic hearts
propelled into my subconscious
& I framed them.
lost myself compulsively
in the pages of everything I could
lay my hands on
   --sweet escape
     only comatose--
daydreamt often
visions of being fantastical
                        amazing
             standing on desks & screaming
                empowered
                     dominant
                    noticed

I dyed her world red
burned her every field
trapped her in a
cathedral of fire
heaven's sight eclipsed by the smoke

she threw a tarp over my moon
my only nightlight
sudden fog
a charcoal cloud that fell on me
crushed & held me there
suffocating until I submitted
stopped resisting
uncovered my mouth
filled my lungs
a subdued sigh escaped as I exhaled

I walked slowly back
I extended half a cigarette
my peace offering
Priestless, we made our vows.

& when I am at war
have committed
violent hate crimes
in my own country
he doesn't tell me what I already know
doesn't point out all the flaws he sees in me
(in case I missed some) he says
please
can i see the damage
he wants to take me in
envelop me
give me a new skin
made entirely of
silk he's spun &
seal it to me
with the heat of every kiss.

& though I am sinking
in my own cerulean depths
I still feel
the red string
tug at my smallest finger
I've been hit
rocked to the core
a wave of safety surges
despite my tsunami
my underwater earthquakes
just knowing
his little finger
will still be tied to mine
whenever I resurface.

this is the day I will not
apologize to myself for living.
well, thriving.
well,
being.

dogs are tame, meek
until the conversion
by the pure blood,
the undisturbed
undistilled taste
of a son
fresh killed.
after, the pet is
forever enamored
with bloodlust.

this is the day I'm standing
coffee in hand
waiting
for the tremors the all over shakes
the screams the curses
the balled up fists. teeth
sharpen themselves for my body
natural & automatic
as pupils dilating
adjusting to new circumstances
while I pace the floor
spiraling inside
unconscious of the change in myself;
the personal exorcism.

I'm surrounded by a halo of
good intentions.
I am a daughter of Cain,
born bad to the marrow.
Listen to me dog, before you start to whine.
That side's yours;
this side Mine.

I am both deeply in love & deeply
melancholy
which feels like
being tied to horses
& pulled between them
testing who is stronger

I want him to pull my strings
rough play
with the softest, most gentle of souls
as malleable as mine & kindred to it.
He loves me so utterly, so completely.

I have a habit
of hypnotizing myself
I like to put on my veil
a shroud of alteration
marry myself to the haze
again & again
I baptize everyday before I
light the world on fire
lose myself in the afterglow
live in the confusion

I love the girl who is
the sister of Leila, Ophelia, Astrid
o, Sweet Mother Mary
pray for me, stuck in melancholy
& losing ground
unity in Heaven's Rose
you are euphoria
mostly because I have
arranged my wills
to center & propel
those wills of yours
think for me
show me I can't live without you
can't
do for myself what you do for me
let's swim in the river
where I forget everything for a little while
enrapture me
all day every day all ways

I don't think
he knows that
I have a habit.

lilting. my world is tilting overward & back. I've been folding myself, twisting & turning my skin; packing me away, as organized as always. I label everything I see & document it elsewhere, then put the note in the bottle, seal it, select a spot on the wine rack. don't give me uppers; you know I'm not that kinda girl. you know I like to sink, not drift with the clouds. You know that when I feel I've died, I just want to find myself a nice place to rest my bones. preferably quicksand, or a pile of freshly overturned dirt; give me anything to help me bury myself alive. I'm just the only person I can trust to lay me down soft.

This morning
I got up
& was not afraid of the monsters in me
I stared down the girl
on the other side of the sink
I thought
for the first time
she was beautiful
we
have some battles yet to fight
but today
we looked at each other
then briefly
stiffly
embraced.
This morning
I listened to the conversations
the birds were having
while I sat there
a visitor not unwelcome
just unnoticed
with my black coffee & brown cigar
like the man
who sits unattended
eating in a restaurant
content to listen
to the conversations from other tables
alone but not lonely.
This morning
I couldn't distinguish who was who
from the bird's voices
the visual noise
of the sun enlightening & uplifting
the faces of
half the leaves on every tree
almost drowning out
what the birds want to tell me
another green
that is
violently striking
to me
in the morning

she was my everything
& I wasn't good enough
she haunted my thoughts
as if my mind
had always been hers
& she had just returned
from a long trip
to find her house
filled
with someone else's belongings
But
he is the air I breathe in
I find his fingerprints
on everything I own
though
I know
he has never touched them

magic woman.
flowing...life never startles her.
takes each piece of paper she finds
& hides it away
between the pages
of whatever book she
happens to be reading that day.
soul filled with fire:
encapsulating &
changing any & all
that come too close;
whatever man
that thinks he can let the flames
lick his fingers
then pull his hand away,
unscathed.

I am the only thing
that dies in the spring. Falling,
not lifting myself.

comfort
safety
everything I needed
& she was holding me.
forehead to forehead I'm crying
& she's so calm so slow so high so careful
not enclosing me
just there
as I'm buckling under the weight
of the pieces I've just
put together.
I'm sitting there
forever with her hand on the nape of my neck,
pixie queen eyes never faltering,
meeting my pleading
alarmed gaze. "It's okay baby girl"
she whispers it
over & over

she reaches up & presses her thumbs down on my airways shaking me & my head keeps smacking the concrete. Both a crack and a thump in my skull. But later it's me: beating her face into the floor breaking her nose her face all apart makes me feel sickeningly alive, mortifies & exhilarates at once. I'm terrified of her, yes, but more so of myself. "It's okay baby girl." Is it? Because night after night sleeping pill after sleeping pill I'm dreaming of ending it all.

Oh, of all the ways I could end.

I am Water
I am Beer
I am ****** up
I am Love
I am Bold
I am Confusion
I am Half-Walked Roads
I am Pen to Paper
I am the Words that should have gone Unspoken
I am Aquaintance
I am Laughter at the Wrong Moments, For the Wrong Reasons, At the Wrong Pace, For the Wrong Ammount of Time; the Complete Embodiment of Inappropriate
I am Ordered Outside; Chaos Within
I am the Mistake You love to make