maybe God is teaching me a lesson
that i can't really seem to comprehend or grasp.
because waves of disappointment crash on the shorelines of my chest
way too often
and i immensely feel each & every euphoric granule of sand
being so easily washed away.

One. I loved you for five years back when that was eternity. But we grew closer and further apart, simultaneously, and though it killed me to. I could not wait any longer for you to make me a priority.

Two. I was very drunk and so were you.

Three. I had the desire to become careless. You were too young and I thought you wouldn't tell anyone. Thanks for keeping my secrets.

Four. I heard you call me pretty.

Five. You told me to meet you in the back room of that party. You lied to everyone rather than admit it.

Six. We listened to some great music and I found things out about you that no one else knew. I admired you for some reason, but you wanted more that I couldn't give.

Seven. You couldn't "rise to the occasion," but I always counted you anyway, since we were there and I would have if you could have.

Eight. We'd made out a few times in lockers rooms and in the dark curtains on stages. Ha! You were an orphan that made everyone else believe it was their fault and like they owed you some kind of an apology. Well, fast forward a few years and you're drunk and joined up and you ***** me. I'd already been ruined enough, so I stuck around. Never hoping for anything better for myself. I was only good enough for you at three am when you needed a ride home, you drunken coward. But I wasn't good enough for you the nine months I carried our daughter, the last year and a half our lives. You've missed out on all the joy she's brought me, and for someone without a family, I expected better. I hope you burn in hell.

Nine. Post-baby, feeling bad about my new body. I had rounded in places previously flattened, and you were a trial run for something I knew shouldn't be as important to me as it was.

Ten. All good things come to those who wait. The only man worthy of my love. I wish I had preserved every good thought and feeling in a jar so that I could share with you. You aren't completely unflawed, but that's fine. You somehow accept me with all my baggage and emotional trauma and tear-streaked moments. I thank God for you every moment I breathe, and you're my salvation from a world that makes women feel like nothing but an object, even though I played the part convincingly. I could never go on without you.

Faint is the word "body"
In this little white box.

Faint are the slices
Across my wrist.

Faint are the scars
Left by my unforgiving choices.

Faint are the thoughts
That made me do it.

Faint, they are,
But not me.

I am not faint.
I am strong.

ashes from spliffs,
smoked at night to
make me water spilling
off a cliff,
waft in the breeze
that is me.
crumpled papers crunch
underneath bare feet,
deceased trees smothered
in new meanings.
empty six packs stack,
cardboard towers guarding
against attack,
old bags, newspaper ads,
a half-full coffee cup
stands tall by the entry,
waiting for commands,
sacrificed to dispel sleep,
towels lay thrown in corners
with acted malice
an attempt to practice
being callus.
this in no apartment
it is a
trash palace.

Waking up, 

sun shining and

daisies adorning your hair

when I roll over.

Eyes open sleepily,

run my fingers

through your hair

with your breathing

slow steady calm

as you sleep on,
and I can smell the flowers

on them afterwards.

Why take a chance to gamble, knowing everything could be lost?  Do you realize once it gets a hold on you, it will become your boss?
Why take a chance to gamble, knowing your money is to be used for bills?  Suddenly, you lose everything, now you're thinking about popping pills.
Why take a chance to gamble, dipping into your children college funds?  Now that you owe a mean man a debt; you're hiding and on the run.
Why take a chance to gamble, forgetting you have mouths to feed?  When will you get it into your head, that you really need to take heed?
Why take a chance to gamble, returning home without a dime?  Now you are angry at everyone, and you're about to lose your mind.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing

Life is a perpetual state
of confusion, along with
a few other ingredients.

It's hard to nail down
what my personal recipe
is missing at the moment.

I feel as though if I were to
enter into the oven as is,
I would be the throw away batch.

You know, of course:
the brownie pan with the sunken
warm goo center.

Not bad, just ill formed
and underdeveloped
like myself.

But each day, I walk
and take one step
like mom always says.

It seems as though those things
I took for granted so much before
are the things I miss the most now.

Like waking up next to you
for nearly a week straight,
hair a mess, but heart in place.

Or you. Your stupid, ******* humor
which made me feel just a little more special than anyone else here.

I could write lines and lines
about different yous and she's,
but then it would lose track.

It's about me, finding my place
somewhere other than in sadness
or work or in being busy.

Because there's so much more
than that to this story.