Don’t stand so close to me
God knows I hate you for it
standing miles high and reaching down
arms stretched out in the 2am
screaming pull yourself up god ******

but my flailing hand passes through yours
like some sort of hologram
leave a message after the beep—you're not there
my nails are filled with dirt from the grave I’m digging

because hello my name is Atlas
and I got this world on my shoulders
it weighs four years
and they call it high school
they colored me Goliath
—some intellectual behemoth
and potential equals mgh, variable being height
but David felled me in an empty forest
and I didn’t make a sound

they rushed me toward a hospital
morphine (or was it lexapro?)
running through leaking veins
sir, her GPA is flat lining
please just let her go

but I keep thinking of that song
Pale Green Things
and--what happened to my baby?!--
my grandmother getting the call

so I’ll let my spine tear through my rice paper back
as I curl up to hold it in
and hope to God
that some other kid  
will bring in his daddy’s paranoia
(hidden in a cardboard box beneath the bed)
to show and tell

and he’d let me take a little lead home
please not in the head
I never liked a mess

it was a great grim

an open space



spells had produced an endless blister

to reach the place



and then the sun got low

"not long now" said he



now vanishing, the light

she wondered whether she could really



bitterly tired

they allowed themselves one more rest longer



then began the overpowering dream

and suddenly, they *were

Tempest of Fury
Tempest of Fury
Spins over and over
Around and around
Seizing, not stopping
Crackling, popping
Destruction exceeding all bounds

Thunder of Rage 
Thunder of Rage
Loudness that lingers
And echoes and stays
Booming, unyielding
No way of shielding
Yourself from the sound of this rage

Wind of Undoing 
Wind of Undoing
Wraps up and strangles 
All beautiful things
Whispers and withers
Sneaks up and slithers
Chaos, surprising, it brings

Fruit flies feasting rasberries,
I watch in the dim lit kitchen only few hours before dusk.
Ponder as I'm watching,
how am I getting back home?

So I said to him
"I've got my demons"
Two bit termites that eat me away
'Cause I was never a real girl
--would you look at her nose--
Lying *****

And then he points back
Says look at them skeletons
Hanging from the closet
Among button down shirts and sanctioned blazers
But they're made of plastic
Some cheap bio lab representation of what's meant to be human

NO I scream
And my voice bubbles out like tar
Paving over his cracked ideals
Sealing up the sink hole where I buried my heart
--saving it for a rainy day--
And I slam the door in his face
Hoping it hits the ******* nose he stuck in my business

Hounds are scratching at my door
Whining for a chance
To rip apart the rabbit
That's hiding in my head

I stand up and let them

Cage of a leopard.
Not a water drop
Remain in the sky.

When do i have my turn?
                                                                                                                                              
                                           I can't really wait much longer.

I hate myself so much.


I can't let myself be happy.
                    
                                            Why can't I have my turn?