I cut myself on the future
I thought of kissing your picture
I detached myself from
lullabies and sorry eyes
only to realize:

I want to make love to you in November,
just before the empty of December.
Where snow blankets
and suffocating leaf-beds
aren't the only dreams
to fall asleep in our heads.

I could hear your voice trip
as my hands started to drip
around your hips and thighs-
You could tranquilize
with your lips and byes.

You look so sleepy-headed
Many words I have threaded
to weave a dream
desperately
but you prefer my
reality.

Maybe this time will be different,
In such a way I could only hope and dream about,
Or in thoughts I fall asleep so warmly nestled in.
Maybe this time will be better,
Then any other love in my life thus far,
In sweetness of Lilies, kind words, and candlelit dinners.
Upon rooftops, cars, and bridges.  
I might be getting too far ahead of myself,
But maybe this time will be real,
Not one sided, not possessive,
Caught up in a ring of smoke, drugs and money,
Of guns, lies and games.
I don't want to be bad anymore,
I want this to be good.
With kisses sweet like cherries on a checkered picnic blanket.
So maybe,
Maybe this time will take a bit more than the others,
But maybe this time will last.

So drunk I can barely feel my feet
But let me tell you something:
I'm not a stupid girl.
I've lived a thousand lives before,
I know what's happening.

I'm utterly nervous and uncomfortable
And I feel everything so very deeply
It gets to my core within seconds.
I want you to know that I'm still lovely
Even with my strange habits
And my inability to figure out what exactly I'm doing,
But I've always been true in all my life,
Because that is the most important thing to me.
Everything I have told you is true,
And I hope my words radiate your bones tomorrow morning.
I don't want to scare you away.
I hope you know that this could be right.
I'm not just that girl from high school anymore,
I'm a real person.
Remember that.

I have so many thoughts clotting up my brain, one day they'll probably just **** me, but to you, I'm still just a girl with no life experience,
Barely a person with any real worth.

There's serpents circling around in my head,
Biting at me so venomously,
And you lay your ignorance on my chest like being ten years older really means anything at all.

I'm falling over with uncertainty
I'm trying to get back on my feet,
Until I get pushed back down like I'm not doing enough,
I'm just trying to tell myself I'm not scared,
and you're making it impossible for me.

it's not that i didn't tell you to stay
it's that my face had been flattened
to a degree unrecognizable, unable to express emotion
eroded by too many acid raindrop-tears
and too many vicarious hits
of that ........ you covet more
than the newborn child ... years away in my stomach
we will not see light
you cannot make it fill the cavity between your selfish molars
and my cavernous ribcage
you can slash the curtains all you want, but the sun don't like you no more
and i barely love you
(even though it cannot dissipate more than it has)
and you won't admire me as a stolen sabertooth
all the crest whitening strips you fed to me
to protect me from the plaque building up
in my voice box
in my lexicon
are in the trash now, honey
i don't give a **** how yellow i'm getting
and if you really loved me
you'd not care either

but you have this need to place all theoretical constructs
on a ******* pedestal above you
like heaven
and happiness
and love
like they are unreachable for you because
you have short arms
and short legs
short ambition
short breath
and so you keep pushing various cleaning utensils toward me
brushes
mops
loufas
and i eat them
i swallow the bleach and plastic and mesh whole
like i've swallowed your feigned empathy
your lack of morality

and i'll regurgitate them for our (never to be) child
when .... is born
and i'll say "here, ............, look...look at all your father left you"
and i'll eat the placenta
and i'll purge it
and maybe by then
i'll have learned how to teach
our never to be had child
how to leave an addict