My eyes are beautiful, she says.
She must dig the haunted, empty look.

My smile is gorgeous, she says.
My tongue has felt those chips and nicks far too often to agree.

My arms look strong, she says.
I am surprised—she’s seen the scars.

My hands stir her, she says.
There is nothing elegant about them.

She loves me too, she says.
Even as we recall all the times I traumatized her.

She will never leave me, she says.
Dear God—that’s what I was afraid of.

She’d never do better than me, she says.
At that, I bite my tongue.

She doesn’t know what I see in her, she says.
And this, I think, is why we keep each other around.

To understate,
You are a seed,
The beginning of a tree.

You will grow and you will blossom,
And you will bear fruit and leaves.

So what am I.

The picker of fruit?
Spreader of pollen?
Maybe a tree, a bush?

You can,
And will
Exist without me.

This is an understatement.

Rather, you are a red giant,
A star ready to blow, expand.

Supernova.

Space-dust.
The elements for life.

And I don't know what to do.

She taught me that I miss having a mother.
She taught me I could cry.
She taught me new ways of kissing.
She taught me who I really love.
She taught me how to sever mutilated limbs.
She taught me that everybody can be selfish.
She taught me that laughing only eases the pain for a day.
She taught me that scars never go away,
*They just get old.

I check for hours to see if you responded.

I like to go to hell sometimes
And take a look around.
I like to see the suffering
And watch blood fall on ground.

I like to look at my old scars
And see the cuts I've made.
I like to reminisce so deep
That I can feel the pain.

I like to sit and stare at space
And count all my regrets.
I like to see if I can catch
All of the worst events.

I like to say the names of ones
Whom I desire the most.
I like to think that they are here
And haunt me like a ghost.

I like to miss their sweet smiles
Because they moved away.
But most I like to make regrets
And mourn them every day.

I was dumb and I was young and I thought I was ready.

I thought I wanted it.

Society told me, from day ONE
          That I did.
Nature told me, from day ONE
          That I did.
I convinced myself, from day ONE
          That I did.

And her body said
          "Marshall, you know you want it."
                    And so I did.


For months after that I hated myself.
I wanted to carve out those memories
         With any knife I could find.
I had betrayed myself
          And no sympathy or empathy could find me.
I had prepared myself for failure and executed it beautifully.
I had obeyed the hormones in my brain
          And the actors on TV.
I had become a product of society and evolution
          And I should have been happy
                    But. I. Wasn't.
My dreams became nightmares before
I could even fall asleep at night.

I wanted to forget.
But it's hard to forget one's own downfall.
One's own betrayal.

The scar tissue on my brain
Brought back all the pain,
No matter how hard I tried to fight,
I kept bringing myself back to that night.

                                                  I want to forget.