I’ve filled the emptiest spaces of myself with


                          the best parts of you

not breathing, warm like an homage
but sterile
    
                                                                          remote

a gallery of looped memories
beautiful and untouchable
and convincingly bright
so that no matter where I am
my retinas are tattooed with the space you took in the world
cooking in a scratchy sweater- your electric rants about Jung  
drumming jazz on the street corner for the pay of odd conversation
planting kisses in my hands because you hoped they would grow a wife
endlessly reminding me

                                              (from wherever you are now)

that the best things in life weren’t free
and though expensive beyond measure
how graceful- I hardly noticed how much
I was willing to give
just to keep at a quiet distance

                           this neuronal gallery

3rd grade, chipped tooth from swinging on the monkey-bars that were still wet from the rain. I held your hand even if you were a girl, too. How everybody teased. You kissed me behind the stacks of books in the library. I thought about telling my mom. I wondered if god saw.

2. 13 yr old stealing eyeliner from the drug store across the street. You blowing smoke into my mouth after-school. I was spell-bound. You taught me words like "****". You forgot my birthday and I gave myself a bruise punching you in the face.

3. he was in the hospital. I couldn't sleep for three days. I never told him about any of this. We spoke only on the phone and I wish he were sincere when he was sober. I realized then that people are revolving doors. I still love him. I think about him often. He's a best friend.

4. You made me lose so much blood. I thought we were more than child's play. You showed me your favorite artist and I showed you my soul. You took your coffee dark and I tried so hard not to smoke in front of you. He stared at my legs and I told him I took three different types of pills that are supposed to make me happy and he just kept on staring.

5. loading.....

“As for Charles – he likes girls. If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But – just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. “
“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

The night crumbles to dust as I trace
every single crease, every nook, every edge of you.
I drink you in, you drink cheap wine:
you only kiss me with alcohol in your blood,
you cannot stomach me without
the drugs.
A pile of cigarette ash on the floor,
broken glass. Shattered ice cubes and
cigarette butts.
It’s a scene of decay; you and I
could only survive if you whispered
sweet nothings and I let you gut
me. You lead me on and I always
slip, and touch you and believe
this time will be the time you stay,
this time will be the time you remember last night
morning come,
this time will be the time
I
am
the
one.
It rains the first time and there’s a bottle
of scotch; we play cards; you’re drunk:
I strip you off; tonight you smile; tonight
you will not mind if I touch
your jaw
your lips
your waist
and below
and your heart
no – never your heart.
Then it’s a matter of time.
You always come when you need me and I
can never refuse to be the one
who lets your tongue
explore my mouth
if only drunk
if only for a while
if only for the night.
I’m there. I will do. For now.
I kiss
your lips
your throat
your neck
your collarbones
and down – way down – below
and your heart
no – never your hear.
You twist me round your little finger and I
would die and die and **** and die
a thousand times
to have you look at me and say
I’ll stay tonight*.
My Charles.
No – never mine.

Between us lies
An empty space.

How could we know
How great the gulf would grow?

I carried the strain.
You would not share my burden,

Now find me
An unwilling host.

I have found a rare mutation
Spliced, we are perfection.

Uninfected, we evolve.

My body bewildered and depleted,
Fragile as the needy me that fed it
Nothing and everything,
Ravaged through the raw, wet decades
Of abuse, and despair.

Bile-tainted, anger-stained
I gazed up, up, and into myself.
Those were the eyes of a determined dreamer,
The heart of a lioness,
Slowly curving mouth prepared to roar.

I am a woman who has learned
I am not this belly, I am not this body,
It is mine, and theirs, and yours.
I gaze upon it, gladly now,
Finding something
Finally worthy of love.

The feeling is lead.
Stubborn,
It sits in my chest.
I remind myself
Not to dare name it.
I remind myself:
If you name it,
It becomes real.
Suddenly, people will see it.
Label you for it.
It will define you.

I ignore it
When I can.
Suppressing him
As best as possible.
Still, he manages to
Shrink me.
******* me.

He strains my knees.
Curves my back.
Hangs below my eyes.
I plead with him.
Beg him.
Try to compromise.
But this thing is
Deaf,
Dumb,
Simple—
He is oblivious.

He lacks understanding.
Incessantly, he fails
To recognize
My pain;
Perpetual discomfort.
Unaware, he forces me;
Knees ******,
Crawling to my vices.

Frequently
I drown him.
Hold his head low.
Well at the bottom of the
***** reservoir
That accumulates
Each night in my gut—
I drink one
After the next.
My hand never
Leaves the glass;
If I can help it,
The glass never
Leave my lips.
Until finally my world—
Our world
Falls below the, thick, black,
***** soaked veil.


Often
I choke him;
With thick, grey,
Clouds of smoke.
The clouds burn
Deep in my lungs
Lifting the burden
From my chest,
Back, knees.
For a minute
My mind isn’t
So crowded.
For the moment
I feel relief.

Some nights
I numb myself
With casual company.
Women,
Who like I,
Are acquainted with he.
For a moment
We might distract
One another—
In that moment
There’s sometimes bliss
Temporary,
Fleeting,
Transient—


But undoubtedly,
Bliss…