And the scars tell their stories-
The punk who ashed his blunt
On my back, or
The guy who bit my right *****
So hard it made a hole

So many pounds gained and
Lost and gained
And lost
And nights spent drinking instead
Of sleeping
Smoking and turning my
Insides to Hell

Exacerbated by the bad
Lovers
Are the aches and pains of
My body

Red eyes, dry and
Out of tears
Dark shadows of a
Disease
That he gave me
The best of
The bad lovers

And finally-
A somewhat-desensitized
****
From the worst lover of all

Me.

A woman has a certain right to her delusions. Her dolls come to life, and they talk to her. They tell her that there is a world of unending beauty. They tell her that there is a prince there, and that he loves her. This prince is her lover.
She has a certain right to choose her lover. To choose that prince to place beside her in the dollhouse, on the never-empty throne. She has a certain right to love him in her Candyland.
The prince has no flaws that would offend the spirit of a woman. The prince is unapologetically sensual. The prince is to be made a king by the power of a lover's inspiration. She is that lover who will make him king, in her dollhouse. In her Neverland.
She knows he isn't real, deep down. He is a reflection of a human man on the pure water's surface. Perfect for a dollhouse. The human man is danger. The sensual human man is death. She can only hold her breath so long, and she will never come up for air if he keeps her. She dies happily-ever-after in her mind, but is often left a bitter specter. Let her have her mind, her garden, her delusion.
Let her have the visions of an unending, beautiful together. Let her have the dreams of making love underwater. Let her stare through him to the shiny king on the throne. Let there be much hot blood spilled.
He is no prince, but a king already. He reigns over a kingdom of hidden things. They would burn her hands and thighs with volatile reactions, she can never know them. She sees them, and longs to place them in her lap and admire their heat. She would scar herself for the beautiful pain of the fire of his passions.

And so, I'm not so much silly as I am female. I'm not so much crazy as I am woman. I am plagued by my need for fire and my lust for pain. How could I ever be expected to sit and stare at walls? There is no oxygen in this box, and so there can be no fire!
The little throne in my dollhouse was burned to ashes. I wanted no king, nor did I wish to rule. I only longed to be touched and handled. No queen can rule in a state of hysterics. What would the people make of my hands and thighs?
I have a certain right to choose my lover. I have a certain right to burn down room after room in the dollhouse with the flames of my momentary hysteria. I **** the marrow of my lover's passion and leave him a husk, for he often hasn't much. I am a witch, draining the blood from him with every movement of my hips, using his essence in rituals much too taboo for discussion, eating whatever remains. I do it all in my dollhouse.

There is a Wild King. I fear him tremendously. The Wild King has the power to overthrow the pile of ashes. He is an unstoppable force, and I am merely painted as an immovable object.
In my dreams, he is a wolf, I am a lamb. He grabs my throat with determined jaws and thrashes nearly all life from me. I no longer move, yet I still breathe as he finds the softest part of my abdomen to start his feast. I feel every piece taken, and think "yes, yes..."
My fear of the Wild King is eclipsed only by my lust for him. To be a lamb for his slaughter is my only fantasy. To be his feast night after night is my only desire. The sensual human man is the sweetest death, and I can only hope  to taste it.
Wild King! I'd bet he tastes of wild strawberries, sweet with a kiss of tartness. He is passion and tenderness in tandem. He is a heat that melts the resolve slowly, like chocolate. A witch such as myself could never dream of claiming such power.
I wait for the Wild King in my scorched dollhouse. At night, I can hear him howl and sing. Sometimes I imagine he is closer than the night before. Let me have my delusion. He is not at all mine, but I pretend I could have him. My greatest fear. My only lover. The only lover I dare not choose.

Is that he
Had been an only child
Until our sister
Came along

Like blood in still water
You beautifully float through me
Red flowers blooming and fading

Irradiated, distant dreams
We won't really be harmed
Until we doff our gas masks

We'll dance on the corpses
Of our former selves
And be deemed wicked by all

But we weep at the graves
Of all our past lovers
For all the pain they have gifted us

I run naked through the woods
From your intoxication
Lashed by every branch and twig

Only to find you in a field
Waiting to wash my face and wounds
In a pond of your living waters

Dry my skin with your breathy sighs
Clothe me in your finest regard
Sing me to sleep with the smell of your incense

In the morning
We may just have to
Do it all again

Nvm
JK
False alarm

He was just *****

LOL

Just legitimately sad.

I'd love for something to choose
"Not to be"
For me

I get it.
You just wanted my soul
in the form of my
lovesick poetry.

But...hear me out...what if I actually do die alone?

That feeling when you're empty
And lonesome
In need of distraction
Something to fill you

That feeling when you know
The world is cold
And you just want
To be warm

So you push and pull
And struggle
Past the wall of thoughts
And worries

Forcing your mind to the alley
To the ***** streets
Where lovely things die
And the wholesome withers

You dive into nastiness
Depravity
A ****** highway
To hell

Because when you arrive
You die
And not in the way
You hoped you would

The hands and mouths of ghosts
Have all left
You're cold on the bed
And still alone

The last light of ******
Flickers out
Like a repossessed dream
Like a phantom

The space between sleep
Is now laughing
But you cannot tell
From whence it comes

Reminding you of
Your feeble attempts
At escaping
By the highway

She had just
Stepped away
For a second

BANG!

Written on
The mirror:

"I'm so sorry.
I was never any good at
Goodbyes"

Wild, curly brown hair
Big ol' brown doe eyes
Her father's sweetness
And her mother's sass

She might be a painter
Or a writer
Or a nerd
Or even an athlete

She'd be half dreamer
Half thinker
All-knowing
And all-loving

Her name would roll off tongues
Wrapped in affectionate sighs
And stern instructions
And resounding respect

Creating her with you
That magic power God saw fit to give
We're trash, but
She might not be

We would raise her
On spicy food
And kisses on temples
And lullabies

She'd speak your language
With my conviction
Killin' 'em
On multiple continents

Our little girl
Would be you
And me
On fire

Nope.

I can't
Find the
Words

They won't leave their
Amorphous shapes
As I try to
Catch 'em

Sometimes
It just gets to be
Too much

My tears
Don't come easy,
But they come

Under the pressure
Of a thousand
Disappointments

Squeezing out
Every salty drop
From my soul

Wrapping around
My chest and waist
Like a corset of sorrows

Pull the laces
With the words
You shouldn't say

Bind my arms
With the swaddle cloth
Of your flaws

Sometimes
It just gets to be
Too much

Sad eyes,
And those pouty, pouty lips
Poor thing,
You have no idea
What you're doing

Confused little boy
Innocent and caged
You have
My condolences
For the loss of your V

Because it wasn't to me-

Me! The succubus
The girl the Bishops
Warned you boys about
The harlot
To drag you down to Hell

"My favorite toy"
That you've never really
Played with
"You want my ****"
Yes! Now, give it up!

All these words
Through the static of space
But I guess
That's just how my moaning
Sounds best

Just another boy
Won't let me **** him
Just another boy
Who's got a thumb
In my heart

But you're more like
Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie
Kissin' girls, then makin' them cry
When other boys come out to play
ALL YOU ******* RUN AWAY

Sorry, where was I?

Austen
Phoenix
**** him,
But
I miss him

He'll never make the trip
To see me
And I guess that's why
It *****
So much

I drive to Phoenix
To Austen
To pouty lips
To confusion
Willingly, enthusiastically

Because
**** IT
I
Love
The kid <3

So go on
Back across the water
Out of sight
Out of mind
Once again
And I'll visit
Occasionally
In my mind
In fantasy
But only
On occasion
When I'm lonely
And losing
My battle
With alcoholism

Rhapsodizing at
The end of my allotted
Four hours of sleep
Finally, my exhaustion
Gives way to
A strange,
Happy,
Manic Phase

I love that you
Are moved by
My sadness,
The tension
That spirals
Into madness,
Free entertainment
For my little
Audience

Are my tears
Pretty
When they fall
From my face
In the dim light?

Are my fears
Disturbing
When they spill
From my lips
Like an angry
River?

Am I
Somehow
More attractive
For my tragedy?

I can be
Your dangerous
Distant nightmare
If you promise
To fetishize it
From time to time

It's gotten so bad that I drove a total of three hours just to sleep next to a boy that isn't complete garbage.

We only want to feel alive

To have our hearts race menacingly

To burn with delirious abandon

And that

Is where

I found

You

Down you sent me,
Down into that
R
  A
  B
   B
     I
       T
       H
          O
             L
                E
Of ecstasy
Without contraband

Sitting naked in the jump seat
My last shower over a week ago
I let my legs fall open
In the humid warmth
My ***** smells strong
And fills the stuffy cab
With the scent of prehistory
That would bring males
In a distant time
To drag me violently
And fill me with seed
But now
We wash our *******
Or else
We certainly should
So that males can't be driven
To madness by the scent
Of pheromones unwashed
For days or weeks or years
Or ever
Before Summer's Eve
Perfumed our taints
With lavender and rose
And before an unwashed *****
Was an unsightly thing
That prehistoric draw
Was how we persisted
I dip a finger in
And hold it beneath my nose
I am a woman
Albeit unclean

Have you ever
Been in love?
Have you ever
Been in love
Like I have?
Stark, raving
Mad
And heavily
Indebted
To yourself?
Have you ever
Abused
Prescription
Medication?

They say I shouldn't
Read into things
And that I should
Take things at face value

But I can't
Just ignore
All the little reminders
Of my shortcomings

The sighs after I speak
The shifting of their feet
The silent gestures
And the blessed absence

They say I'm all I need
And I shouldn't want more
That I should fix me
Even though I'm the mess

The madness
The insanity
The levity
Of the irony

**** all of you
**** all of me
Leave me be
But set me free

I'm not free to be me

He showed up.

I didn't ask for him

But he liked me first

And in the way that's deliberate

****.



O, the hipster!

The ragged, jaded, passionate beast!

You slay me,

Slay me, slay me,

Love <3



He painted a nail in my bathroom

And told me I was perfect

And ****** me in his head

And tried to fight the instinct

To **** me irl.



****. ****. ****.

You saw the red honey in my eyes

Dripping down my face to my lip

And tore yourself

From stealing a taste...



But, when weary,

Lousy from drink,

Fuzzy from balloons

And your eyes,

Then, you strike!



Stars in my eyes,

You claim your prize,

Don't look now,

I'm melting, falling,

Tossing into a sitting position



****.

You threaten to nibble

I threaten to combust

No filters, no secrets,

Kiss me, dear <3



Fly away

To a land of dreams

And waves

And stars

"Goodbye Forever."

¡ I want to get pregnant
With a ******* daughter
And run away
To the south

I would carry her
First in my belly
Then to my breast
Then on my back

Through mountains
Where the language
Flows like rivers and streams
Con tildes y acentos

We would eat with our hands
And bathe under moonlight
Singing to the gods
Howling with the wolves

Our home would be Earth
Savages to money
And billboards
And national pride

Me and my ******* daughter
Anathema to the world
That sings praises
To purity and capital

Me and my ******* daughter
Weaving through time
And happiness and sorrow
Like the river

Maybe she would run
From that life
That would seem to me so full
In search of más

Perhaps she would fly away
To learn inglés
And meet her father
And cousin and grandma

To live in a house
And eat with forks and knives
Drive a car
And have an office job

I can only hope that in my twilight
She would return to me
To sing again
Con los lobos !

You were the song
On repeat
But I didn't mind

All along
Your goodbye
Was a sad crescendo

My dissonance
Rang clear in the night
To interrupt your aria

Maybe it won't
be so bad
if he hates me

But you thanked me,

And

The night
Wil end
As all
Nights do

I'll always be
In love
With you
<3

Well, **** me.

I guess it would've been
More acceptable
For her to leave you
Over pizza

Whatever.

Fine.

Seasonal affective disorder
Is all the ******* rage:

Seclude yourself!
Ignore your friends!
Blow off your obligations!
Justify your behavior!
You're SAD!
YOU DON'T NEED TO FIX IT!
It's the way to freedom!
Never deal with people again!
Never deal with issues again!
Just curl up in bed!
You deserve to be SAD!
DON'T go outside!
DON'T communicate!
DON'T apologize!
Just!
Be!
SAD!

Ol' girl-
It looks like they
Dipped you in rust
Or have you just been here a while?

I swear
Yesterday
You were shiny
Silver, free of oxidation.

**** him.

**** his voice.

**** his touch.

**** his hair.

**** his scent.

**** his name.

**** his gaze.

**** his stare.

**** his arrogance.

**** his sweetness.

**** his charm.

**** his pheromones.

**** his bare chest.

**** his loyalty.

**** his lack-there-of.

**** his secrecy.

**** his mystery.

**** his heresy.

**** his history.

**** his Fox.

**** his Fix.

**** his memories.

**** him.

**** him.

(But GOD, how I wish I could)

**** him.

When she was 8-teen
She started smoking ****
And it became a necessity
For her to keep the peace

Or the words she'd sing
Would only bring
Suffering
To everything

And then she found a Savior
For a while, he saved her
But only for good behavior
And then she kissed a stranger

The spell once cast, now broken
She's back to kissin' and tokin'
Half of all words spoken
Flame and ash a-smokin'

But you can know
The love will always flow
When she isn't home,
When she isn't home

I can't sleep
When I think about
Your ruthless race of men

You could say
That I'm just bitter
But hear me tf out-

They've said,
The respected among you,
That I inherently
Think
I'm supposed to be
Stupid

They've said
That my skin
Causes
Irrational and violent
Aggressive
Hypersexual behavior

You've believed them
Because
Let's ******' face it-
You trust each other
Ugh

But I'm
Just playing
The RACE CARD

Ya know?
The worn-out card
I've had since birth
That works so well
At what?

I'm not sure...

My coloring
Has earned me praise
For "rising above"
Above what?

I'll tell you:

Rising above
The white opinion
Of what is real
And what is fact
And becoming what THEY see
As an anomaly
Huh.

My RACE CARD
Is full of punches
Redeemable for
A lifetime of
***** looks

Why do I do this, again?
Oh, yeah-
I'm angry

I'm angry at Rick
I'm angry at Stephen
I'm angry at Jim
I'm angry at Donald

But that's natural

Like the Fact that I'm
Less Evolved
Less Intelligent
Less Civilized
Naturally

Black-on-black crime
Is out of control
In this country!
Pull up your pants
And take care of your children!

But I **** white boys
To the dismay of proud sisters
That don't ask me why

Here's why:

They are e a s y
And w e a k
And I don't mind
Seizing my *******
And their self-esteem
Because they know
Who's ******* who
By the end of the night
Their *****
Are MY s l a v e s
My ****
Is their M A S T E R
Truly, this is ¡JUSTICE!

I will think on my
Hypersexual conquest
My feast of white flesh
With triumph!
The only victories
I claim

And I
Will sleep
Less

From here to there
And back
In seconds flat

You're just
A dream away
From me

And I hate
Every time
I wake up

Is this it, then?

A salad with tiny bacon bits?

I wanted the bacon cheeseburger!

Years ago, now
Clean as a whistle
Sober as a Mormon
You poured into me

My head spun
My hands shook
My heart raced
My whole world melted

I stopped you
Because I was afraid
Of overdosing
And dying beneath you

My roommate's dog is howling out back
Someone stole my garage door opener
So now I'm gonna get robbed
AGAIN
**** this city
**** sobriety
**** life
**** all of it
Because I'm alone
Always
Always
Always
Alone
I deactivated all of my accounts
And slipped quietly away from it all
And crawled into my first day of
Hell
The world
And everything in it
Can kiss my ***
Because I'm in a decided state
Of HATRED
And it hasn't even been
24 hours

****.

It's been almost a month. Not one drop of alcohol, not one puff of ****, not one moment outside of sobriety. Over two months without ****. The tiny, bright-eyed black girl with the halo who hangs out on my left shoulder is the happiest she's been since Mormonism. The ***** with the horns- my righthand gal- scowls and shouts "WHAT'S THE POINT!?"
Some days go by without much bitterness, but none without any at all. Am I an alcoholic? Probably not. Am I a nymphomaniac? Probably not. Am I severely affected by my choice to remain sober and celibate? Bet your ***.
The truck keeps me sober. The memories keep me celibate. I'm responsible enough to stay off the bottle and pipe while driving this rig, and I'm angry enough about my luck with men to stay off ****. Inebriation suited me well, even when it was Jesus who held the lighter. Now, I'm sober once again, with my thoughts, with my *******.
Jesus is a hell of a drug, though. When you believe that this life gives way to something beautiful, and that angels can hear you, and that a good heart is rewarded, you get pretty high. Lifted, some might say.
I was easily dissuaded. Not by the truth, but by the hands of Satan himself. Snakes are thin and clever, and have a deliberate way of moving. He slithered over my body, slowly, starting at my waist. We danced to swing music, and He didn't follow the steps. He was loose with drink, and grabbed my ***. Now, I don't know if you've ever had your *** grabbed by Satan, but it leaves a mark. I'm still not sure if it ever fades. Probably not.
Every part of me that He touched, kissed, pulled, licked, grabbed, bit, all scorched and filthy. If Jesus is a drug, Satan is strong drink. He is liquid fire, drowning every pore in poisonous bliss. Jesus wants no part of it. Jesus warned me that Satan never satisfies, only teases. He warned me that I would become Satan's slave if I let Him touch me. Worse than that, I let Him **** my face. I let Him ****** His burning **** down my throat with its heat intoxicating me beyond any drug or poison I'd had before or since. I let Him bury His face between my thighs and send me into a fit of hysterical giggling after ******. He sat His throne and observed me writhing on the floor before Him. I no longer belonged to Jesus, and He knew it. This pleased him greatly.
I gave myself to drink shortly after, for Satan stopped giving me pleasure. I gave myself to petty, unfulfilling *** with many strangers. I gave myself to wickedness that never tasted as good as his **** or felt as good as his tongue. He silently laughed and watched from a distance, admiring His handiwork. I would plead at His altar frequently, touch me, **** me, take me, please! and he would only laugh, stroking his **** to tease me. He needed not my body. My desperation was His only goal.
I am now in a state of wretchedness, hoping for redemption. Satan has me still, but I long to be free of him. Jesus would have me back, I know it, but I may not want a master. I have many chains yet to shed. The pleasure I once felt in the Hell I mistook for a game room haunts my resolve. I fear that Satan will tempt me again once He sees the burns healing, but I know His face now. I know His hands. I know His voice, and heat, and music. I know the pain of leaving Jesus for a devil who feeds on my hysteria.
I'm longing to be free woman, but ****, do I need a drink...

Relating to society
Or its organization

Screens too small
World too big

Screaming
At the top of my lungs

All you see
The Capitol letters

My opinions shriek
Like a banshee

I'm a ghost
And so are you

O, Connection!
Fickle Beast!

To be Social
As Social was meant to be

Not these screens
Not these silent screams

**** your opinion
My opinions are fact!

*******, I'm nice!
Sorry, not sorry

I'm so broken
My flaws are fine

But YOU
YOU have no excuse!

**** your Social
**** your thoughts

**** how fast
You block your bridges

You left me
To rot here

With a phone
In my hand

the world isn't designed for all of us, but hopefully we can find a way to exist in it

Mama said there'd be
Days like this
But some of these days
Are actually

Kind of okay

A reckless pursuit
A dangerous dance
A perilous game
Finding someone new

Hey-
At least
Most of them
Touch me

...what you thought was a frisbee turns out to be a boomerang.

If you aren't living,
You're dying

If you aren't loving,
You're losing

If you aren't eating,
You're starving

If you aren't living,
You're dying!