i had a dream the other day that
a flashlight shone bright,
cutting between the ribs of night
and using my free hands,
i cupped it's ***** within my palm and watched in silent fixation as slight
particles breeched between my bleached out fingers, to aliken the feeling of exposure heating the sole of my hand to skinning rays of a full moon is a woeful plight. i'm not sure how i got here,
but i know it feels desperate to try to stay

i wish i could just forget it,
but christ-
there's a hook somewhere inside of me
and it's wedged in real deep.
the only way out is through
and the only way through is you
but there's only one you
and the last time we included you
was the time you got out of my car
and left me with a mouthful of
buddha says this and taoism says that
and blah blah blah i know what i'm talking about
but i don't know what i'm talking about
and you know just as well as i do
that i don't know what i'm talking about;
oneness and demons, we're all god and ego and prayer, just stop it!

you could have sat there and listened, though.

but you still got out of the car
in that construction zone with your friend
and did you look back? i don't know
you never said before you left for italy and left me
antique shopping at just the gosh-****-cutest shop
this side of the PA/DE border
don-cha-know.
i wanted to buy everything there and say
"let's have this one. let's have that one."
let's register for this one.

its just you always have a script in your head,
but i always fumble my words when they mean something,
and i can never talk about what i feel-
never say what i really believe.
maybe there's just no words for it,
definitely there's just no melody for it.

but if there was, it'd be all like...
capo on 1: amin, g, f, c.

say the word and we'll start heading home.

I have
never been
an easy girl to love.
Because
I once thought that
everyone
disliked me as much as
I
disliked
myself.

When Jordan
asked me to be his girlfriend on the playground
in fifth grade,
then followed with
I'm just kidding, I could never date a fat girl
I thought
right then
that those words meant my
body
was
incapable
of
even
being
accepted.

But now,
as your fingers sweep over my bare skin
in the flickering light of
our
coffee scented candle,

I realize just
how
wrong
I
was.

usually mad at myself for eating, pinching the skin of my stomach and thighs, but i've got an eye on that oatmeal and i feel exhausted and what if it's just me being hungry and i want to be strong
but more importantly, i want to be thin
i'm not quite sure why that is
but don't worry, i'm not doing anything about how fat my arms and legs feel, the skin i get to pull around under my chin
i just contour my cheek bones hoping they won't look so full
and feel best on days i pride myself on being small.
what a mixed up world we live in
what a consumer field
what a first-world disease
why do i still order medium t-shirts when i look better in a small
because i'm disillusioned of it all
and i talk about it a lot
for not wanting to talk about it
but i think about it even more

Her eyes are like a bowl of cereal:
swirled with sweetness, soft but cold.
She lays in the center of a cobblestone intersection,
as tires bounce like knuckles off of teeth.
And ruby ribbons run from her mouth,
heading down the street that breathes south.
The sky above her stretches like notes from a guitar,
spitting acid rain tunes that'll turn into the pitter patter of a musical monsoon,
washing her body away from my sight and yours,
cleansed from our memories and the city floors.

"Happiness is a decision"
Is something I hear people say often
"Happiness is a decision"
Please tell that to my depression
Tell Depression that I never invited her over
We are a blind date ambush I didn’t agree to
My friend Anxiety set us up because we would make a good match
"Happiness is a choice"
Please tell that to my insomnia
Full of conversation pieces that only serve to resist the edge of sleep
My insomnia has become acquainted with depression
And neither care for happiness
They would rather talk about my lonliness
As if it weren’t in the room
But my lonely is always around as the friend I know best of all
Because I don’t make friends very easily
I am an awkward introvert
When I learn what people think of me
I cant help but hurt
There are high expectations I know I’ll never live up to
Even my mother has moved on to grandkids who still have time
To not disappoint her
"Happiness is a choice"
Please tell that to my face
I will try to believe you
My cohort of friends inside my head
Will likely disagree

I was just standing there
Feeling the way the earth moved
I thought we were dancing
The earth was spinning
Without noticing my desperation