Can’t I be thankful for pomegranates?
The setting of such a royal fruit on my table
I am so lucky
to be able to decorate the holiday table with such a royal fruit
I am thankful for pomegranates.

Cut my arms
Please
rip into my flesh
like sharks to meet
turn my skin and muscles into shreds
let them dangle from bone
Like scraps for the dogs
tear me apart
leaving scars
wherever you go

because when I come back
when my skin grows again
and my muscles regenerate
I will be stronger
and I will have scars
over my entirety
to prove where I've been

If you take me
if you're so destined to tear into my flesh
to consume what innocence I have left--
take me with an iron fist
take everything I have
everything you want and more
with blunt force
leave me shredded,
shattered
leave me bruised
with permanent scars
beat me until I'm ******
until I'm black and blue
until my bones are crippled
and my skin is sore to the touch
And everyone can see  your marks
all over my body
until you have ripped my insides out like a trophy
until you have destroyed every bit of beauty my body once held--
do this all,
I beg you
so I can show the world what kind of monster you are
take me--  take all of me,
I'm asking for it
I'm asking you, to prove yourself, guilty.

I wear no sunglasses that Shield my
   eyes from the realities
       of this world
that put a Valencia filter over the
    things that I see or a sensor
        over the things that I hear.
I do not push the news stations
    through a small strainer only
        allowing the ”easy to
             handle”  stories to reach my
                 cup for me to consume.
I know that red is this world's favorite
    acrylic,
black it's favorite oil paint,
and blue it's favorite watercolor.
the painting of our world has red
    splattered across every
        building and seeping out of every
            wrist,
black in every sidewalk crack, every
     alleyway, and across
         every, screaming, mouth,
and blue welling in every eye.
I know this, but I have ripped the tape
    from my mouth, bandaged my
        wrists, and wiped my eyes
I have become comfortable.
opening my mouth
Like pulling the trigger of a gun
Aimed at anyone trying to Paint those
    colors back into my life
shooting their thoughts down making
    pastel bullet holes so the light can
         shine in.
I have become too comfortable.

I only come to this realization when I
    hear gunshots coming from a hand
        who does not know what it is
              holding
when I hear seemingly Innocent
     Voices say
“Well, why does it even matter,
if you've given a blow-job before, what's the hesitation to doing it  
     again?”
“ Because I said no.”
“ But you've already done it, before.”

I've told you, I do not wear filtered
     glasses.
but sometimes I forget that people are
     programmed with black paint on
          their brushes ready to cover over
               your mouth again.
I remember that as soon as I learned
     to rip the tape from my mouth
I realize that I can't just watch them
      bring the tape closer until they
           push it over my lips
I have to scream, as soon as I see it,
Because that is what my mouth is for.
And I have to fight to keep it of,
because that is what my hands and
      wrists are for.
And I have to look- not like the prey
      trying to stay out of sight,
but like a warrior with eyes like
       swords
and a mouth...
like a gun.

The map of our country is stained in cranberry juice
the streets are red with blood
and in the south red flags hang like ignorance
or like all those sentenced the death penalty

isn't red such an American color

Hold my hand
sit near me
let me sink into your lap
just please don't leave me alone with my thoughts
or lack thereof

You see,
if you leave.
my head will not scatter into a million deadly shards
it will do quite the opposite
it will collapse

whatever you do, don't leave me,
not now.
you see if you leave
I lose my sanity
I lose my restraint

the second you turn your head and walk out that door
my eyes will well
my heart  will lose its rhythm
My hands  will shake
and my breath won't be able to claw its way up my throat anymore.

You don't have to say anything
you don't have to do anything
just please don't leave
I'm scared of what happens when you leave --
please don't leave...

You kissed me,
Harder than you had before

You left my lips
Numb

You squoze me
Buried your head deep in my chest

You left me standing there
Unaware of what just happened

You called me babe
Over and over again like it was a checklist

You left,
Unattached from everything

You said you were sorry
In a useless attempt to pull yourself back to reality

You left me,
Shell shocked

You drove off
Reckless enough to **** yourself

You left me
scared

Everyday
she watches him
her eyes stuck
becoming a role model
for the glue of his shoes
the glue  he practically pours on
it's trying to hold all those pieces together
the pieces falling like crushed leaves from a set of hands
it knew it had a job to do
like a mother trying to hold her family together
she doesn't have enough arms to reach out to every person who needs holding
to work her 9 to 5
to pay the bills
to take care of her parents
one of whom has forgotten her name
to pretend that her marriage is fine...
for the kids sake.
the kids who watch her sulking eyes on the way to daycare
and yes she's been told that only ****** mother's put their kids in
          daycare
but that's all she can do
so shut up
just shut up

it's like the high school girl
trying to hold her heart together
it's been broken...
like the shoes
the ones on the boys feet

Red silk is not what I'm used to
but it will do instead of Blue

and it feels a little diff-er-ent
and it doesn't hold, onto tears
and the name doesn't ring the same in my ears

For it's not the one my mama made
Out of pajama pants

I think sometimes my nose is pulled so high into the air that I am a skyscraper
that my ears hear only Birds
that my skin feels only wind
but my ears
that is not what they hear

they hear
“hey baby”
“****... girl...”
“What u doin all alone”

my skin-
feels their hands
feels their selfish - dominance
their greed, for my, body

so my nose, goes higher up.
while my heart, sinks further down
I cannot ignore their words,
or rather, I should not ignore their words for my own protection
because that makes me feisty
makes me unattractive
makes me stingy
to withhold myself from their, greedy, hands
so I must respond
or at least acknowledge
be confident
be ignorant
pretend you didn't know it was anything more than a compliment
flash them a smile
continue walking

and Oh...
don't forget to say
thank you.

Thank you mom

for using harsher words,
than the boys in middle school did

for teaching me to love myself,
and then **** shaming me

I should let you know that all the boys at school were joking,
but from the tone in your voice I knew that you weren't

Thank you Mom

for bringing up impossible conversations,
in situations where I can't escape

like that lovely conversation in the car,
on the way home from school

the one about birth control,
when I desperately tried voice my opinion for the hundredth time

hoping that maybe you'd finally understand,
there was no need for it

nothing good or helpful came from it,
only inconvenience and discomfort

Thank you Mom

for leaving me stripped and naked,
with a spotlight shining on me

there's nowhere to go,
nowhere but out the car door onto the highway

that actually didn't seem like a bad option,
I always have preferred blood to tears

Thank you Mom

for expressing how you,
“don't want to raise your grandchild”

it's like, when I said I'm waiting,
it went through one ear and out the other, for the hundredth time

Thank you Mom

for giving me so much confidence,
and then taking it back, More easily than you gave it to me

Thank you Mom

for giving me such confidence,
that I'm a disappointment

I don't have any pretty song floating around in my head like leftovers from my childhood
but I have Reno

"when I was a baby
my momma told me son
Now always be a good boy
and don't ever play with guns
but I shot a man in Reno
just to watch him die
now when I hear that whistle blowing
I hang my head and cry

now when I was a baby
my mama told me son
now always be a good boy
and don't ever play with guns
but I shot a man in Reno
just to watch him die
now when I hear that whistle blowing
I hang my head and cry"

and I do
I Cry
and I Cry
my tears they take me back to a Time when my daddy sang even when I didn't want him to
My tears they take me back to a Time when everything was peachy
and I didn't have a single worry
I was so free
and I wrote of those x with every new year
I wrote of crying
tears and memories they come together
wrapped in a bow
inseparable
I wrote a song
several years ago I sang

"so dad,
if it's not too much
won't you sing a song
for me
Take out your guitar
I just want to hear your melody"

and I Cry
and I Cry
and the tears take me back
to every song we ever sang
every word or hum mumbled through my lips with eyes closed
deep in the music
like it was the only thing on my mind
every song my dad ever played
strumming his guitar like a harp
and I Cry
and I Cry
and the tears take me back

Trying is the biggest mistake anyone ever made.

The plush of my ***** waist and thighs attempt to pop every hemline and button in my wardrobe
My body is to Wholesome my flesh is too engulfing
and for this I roll over each elastic and my thighs Bust from my stockings
and my love handles and stomach squeeze over my waistline
and my back and my ******* make Pillsbury roll bra straps
and it looks like there's so much extra meat in too small a sausage tube
and it looks like I just kept blowing into the balloon
and I don't feel too big and I don't feel like my clothes are too small
and my body just doesn't fit in them the way they used to
I feel like how beautiful must I be to have this much extra to give that my stockings can't even hold the juice of my thighs
and my pants spill over with so much good batter
and my back rolls like Silk have the luxury of keeping my back from being straight like a board

for I do not know what I would do with a smaller body
if I could feel my leg bones and see my ribs if there was a gap in between my thighs if my hips protruded taking my pants along with them if my collars made soup bowls.
I dread what I would do with such a hard body how would such hard edges fill out these worshiping stockings

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I’ll hand myself over like a bird.
you’ll have to care for me,
because I can break.
you can crush me, in your hands, if you want
but I-am trusting
I am not-naive
no,
I know what COULD happen
I am loving,
because in spite of it,
I hand myself over.

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I will become a collection of all your lost parts.
I will continue organizing your memories until I am your own
     personal encyclopedia
your secrets I will share with no one
your fears
your likes and dislikes
your history
no one
you, and only you, will have the key.

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I’ll sing a song of “I love you’s”
because the thought of you not knowing that I do
scares me-
more than anything.
ok-
Almost-anything

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
because of that one thing that I am so scared of
I’m scared when you’re all gone.
when I’m not near anyone I love it really really scares me
and this has effected my actions and personality so, that…

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
because I will cling to any part of you that I can hold onto
and when I’m not doing that,
I will grab your arm
or your hand
or touch your cheek shoulder something anything
because I am reaching past your skin
through your muscle
the heat of your body is not what I am craving
it is more than the touch of your skin I am looking for
I need your soul.
to hear the words that language can not form,
the connection…

Haven’t you ever touched someone,
and heard a story?
heard the words you needed to hear
felt safe?
not because the skin you are touching is strong,
not because you know it will protect you
just because,
you’re touching it
you’re hearing their story
because their words surround you like a blanket.
they block everything else out.

So when I touch you-
when I Love You,
please don’t run away so fast.
let me hear your story.
let me feel safe.
because no matter how long it’s actually been,
a month
a year
to me
it was an eternity
of being in the cold
of being in the snow-
without my blanket…



               I don’t know... why I am like this,
               why I…
               Love, like, this
               but I promise you,
               when I Love You-
               you’ll know it.

Know that you are beautiful!

I wanted you home
for so, long-I wanted you home
and 6 years later you were ready
and it was too late
I asked you to come home before then
because I knew time would get away from us
and it did

you left and you didn't come back
and I went to the funeral
and I asked if God was there
Through all those years of praying
because my prayers didn't do anything
and time ran out
and I was too late
or maybe you were too late--

it was all too late
and I went to your funeral
it was all too late

I woke up
I knew that it wasn't too late
but it also kind of was
you were still alive--

but not here.