give us this day our daily
emotional breakdown
and forgive us our
blackout binges
as we forgive those who
starve themselves for perfection

and lead us not into
inherited obesity
deliver us from
the mental ward

FOR THERE IS SO
MUCH ******
BREAD IN THIS
HOUSE I CAN'T
TAKE IT ANYMORE

on mlk day i shut my eyes
and see scenes of
squishy white rolls and
pats of margarine

bread
leaden
deadened
feeling in my stomach

i can't eat any
more bread

but here it is
in baskets and
coolers in
toasters and
cupboards

my daily bread
made to sustain me
but turned into
the enemy

deliver me
from risen
yeast in
third degrees

a flour coated
tyranny
mind control
through sesame

swallowing
emotions
down
down
down

quietly settles
until spring
somewhere between
my hope and skin

you can see me
smile and stand
straight and tall
but what you can't see
is this shouldn't be
my body at all

*give us this day
our daily bread
and give us the strength
to chew meat instead

and i pray
someday
the pain
behind
your eyes
eases

that peace fades
your scars

and your heart
finds hope

dear friend
i pray someday

you learn
to live
without fighting
yourself
and the fog
lifts

but until then
i pray

here's to hoping
i keep coping
or maybe just sleep
all this away!

the term is spiral
but it's more a
plummet, a drop
on a rollercoaster

a downward spiral
sounds like a waterslide
all smooth splashes
bubbles of laughter

but it's more like
the cutoff when your
heart jumps out of the
hole in your stomach
just hold your
hands up and scream

when some get sad
you spiral slowly
things pile up and
they slip and slide

when i get sad it's
freefall but i guess
i'm used to
bumps on rides

but it's all in the
way we fall

i want a silent
night tonight

the radio
creaking out
old songs
of cheer and

red
running
down my
arms and legs

a silent
night

all the static
noises and voices
that never
shut up

quieted
just
for
tonight

the world
asleep
while my skin
weeps

a silent
night

eerily quiet
night

fluffy snow
on the ground
blankets over
my head

over my
thoughts

peace on
earth
no fear
no hurt

silent
night

the radio
plays on
through the
twinkle lights
paper bags
golden bows

as loud as
every other
day of
the year

and i can't
just lie here

i need a
silent night

just one
night
without noise
without a fight

once in november
a late afternoon
sunbeam
managed to slip
its way into the
windowless kitchen

it hit me in the eye
and trickled down
my flannel shirt
i held it in my hand

remembered it
for days like this

days when i am
tired
and the coffee won't
come off the floor
or the stains out
of the sink
or the grounds from
under my nails

and i want to cry
but all i've got is
creamy egg wash
monotony
mixed with
chocolate chips

i keep that sunbeam
for days like this

cold and frozen
can't feel my fingers
wind blowing
down my neck

there's a tiny little
sunbeam in my
back pocket that
i'll never forget

i can fold over the blankets
into triangles or
diamonds
crystals on the windowpane
and the chill chasing its way inside
i can clear the counters and
string up the lights
i can twist on the lamp and
slide between the wall and some comfort
i can curl into my dresser drawers
between the sweaters and
the socks
i can draw the curtains and
drag up the blinds to let the clouds
through the mesh
but still i’m falling victim to
a lackluster melancholia
and i suppose it would be fine
if the silk of the morning
didn’t make a habit of
curling itself around my throat
before i even lift my eyes
to the sun.