the water is murky and ***** and grey
but the fish keep swimming and swimming and
nobody asked to feel this way
but if the fish manage to survive
we can too

i keep my window open at night to feel the breeze blow my hair across the pillow and tilt my head back to look at the stars. it always starts me crying because the night sky is so big and beautiful and because somewhere across the world your time catches up with mine while i am sleeping and because you may be looking at the same patch of stars as i am and that is crazy beautiful. i wonder if you look at them and think of me or if you can't even see them in your suburban block and you don't care anyway because you're too busy looking at the sparkle in her eyes to notice those distant specks of light.

sometimes i go off
about these worlds
that i make up
in my head.

because when the world
is so messed up,
don't you
want another?

i spend
so much time
just living
in these worlds,
     just thinking.

about
trivial things

     like:
how come clouds
get to be so high
that it's like they're flying,
when all they do is bring rain?

     or:
why do we spend
so much time
obsessing over the fact
that we don't have much time at all?

but i think
that maybe
in these worlds i make up,
it's not so bad.

sure,
there are bad guys
but when are there not?

the thing is,
in my world,
i'm not one of those
bad guys.

i'm the one
with the cape
and the mask
and i am the one
     who saves the day.

Oh!  There it is!
The blood of my Mothers’
Sins
Blossoming on
My white sheets
Like a bouquet of English roses.
A shame -
Laundry day had
Been yesterday.  

My thighs have been painted
Rouge -
They blush
Like my cheeks
When my gaze
Lingers on my body
Too long in the mirror
As I put on my Sunday dress.

The needles in my
Lower back fill my
****** with blood -
I am a woman now -
And as such I must
Wake before the sun
And wash my sheets
And my body
Before anyone has a chance
To smell the iron and the shame
Between my legs.  

I have never been so
Acutely aware of my body:
My sore ******* feel like
Overripe tomatoes ready to burst,
My stomach bloated and taking up
Space I’m told is not ladylike -
My head throbs, my limbs ache, and
I continue to shed my insides.
How is it I never noticed
The cry of my body before?

A week of blood
Before I have served my sentence
For a woman
Who dared to disobey -
I clean the stains
And wash myself
Away.

They say home is where the heart is,
Well I gave my heart to you.
Thus there is nothing more true in saying:
"Home is wherever I’m with You".

And it may take hours, days, or years,
But “I’ll never care how long it takes,
-as long as you come home to me”.