Everyone sat
criss-cross-applesauce
in our hearts.
Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

I try hard to sound
important,
when I write *******
because
there are bodies
reading this *******.

And bodies grow and wither.
They thrive and survive.
They get married
and die alone.
They die.

To become dead.

Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

When I was little
I played with plastic toy knives
and dragged them across
my brother's throat
saying, "You're dead!
You're dead! You're dead!
I swear, you're dead!"

And we pretended
kool-aid was blood,
letting it drip down
my chin and neck,
down my chest,
past my pec.

I wrecked my bike
and ran for days.
I was stung by bees and swore,
"Nothing could hurt more
than this."

And when I turned twelve,
I learned how to ******* to dreams.
The grip on my skateboard
wouldn't let go of me.
I ollied over plastic bags
and stared at lottery tickets
sleeping in the garbage.

She and I played with fireworks
faster than shooting stars.
We waded in the lake,
being a cliche.
She and I rolled on the grass, naked.
I don't know where she is, now.

I don't know.

I miss you
But I can't miss you
If I miss you
You win
Or I lose
Or something
And I keep losing
I keep breaking
I'm tired
So very tired
I wish I could sleep
But insomniacs don't sleep
When they throw away their
Lullabies

Part of a mud-caked quilt,
between the city walls
and the tornado path,
*******--not at all.
Because he's a voice
in the crowd.

If I could shave
your burnt hair from my arms.
And hear the sirens blare
through cross-stitched alarms.
I would give until
the water leaves
the copper cuffed canyons
in my sleeves.
I want to want something
more than what I'd give.
Just to blend into the sky.
You and I.

Fat, ugly, and unloved.
You need to go puke in the toilet.
Continue puking in the toilet, ugly *****.
Because you really are not that slim.
Only drink coffee.
No food for you today.
Starving yourself everyday will for sure keep the fat away
Stupid *****, continue to excersise.
You must look perfect before you die.

The tears comfort me
Offering me sweet release from the numbness.
I feel whole.
Sadness and happiness blend into one
As the water runs over my face.

I'm thinking too much again
Every night it's the same.
Regrets, anxiety, fear, guilt
Never go away.
Each one a different voice in my head
Telling me they hate me.

But tonight there are tears.
And as they leave my body
So does some of the pain
And I feel whole again.

Such a beauty cannot go
untainted for long
even the prettiest rose
will grow herself some thorns

Luring your naive pray
in your arms, your twisted game
make them stay, and then you slay
the thorns of you will be their end