she
is what she is meant to be,
she is the sensuality
of her femininity,
she
seeks beauty in all
she sees,
her essence is complex simplicity,
she
is contradictory,
she is all
that's satisfactory,
in her days
and in her dreams,
she
is lovely,
loving me,
she
is everything,
woman,
perfectly
a precious, priceless,
part of
me
that is
she.
_
Femininity
http://beautyineverything.com/4618419981

Formation is delicate.
A ripe cranberry will bounce.
Past times regurgitate:
Swap a gallon for an ounce.
I'm too soft,
Too hard,
White boiling, then cold.
This beanbag will mold
To every shoulder I hold.
Put the black ball away in its drawer.
STOP
BREATH:
Draw, draw.
"STOP!"
"STOP!"
(More?)
I should listen before I pounce.

January 2011

i drink whiskey because
after so many
shots
something like a dragon wakes up in my stomach
and crawls out my throat with the exhalation of cigarette smoke
i drink whiskey because the dark brown
mingles with the fire in my veins
and the wild south of my soul is reawakened
a part of my soul that lingers in the bricks of marie laveu's and between alleyways in the french quarter
stirs up like a ghostly collection of downy feathers
and the fear that is carved into my ribcage seeps out
i drink whiskey because the salt of my fingers plays
with the back of my throat
coaxing all this fear out, chased with mason jars of water
i drink whiskey because it makes me feel ugly and fierce
i drink whiskey because it makes it easier for me to burn bridges and sever ties
i drink whiskey because it makes being used by men with pretty faces and holes in their dead chests easier to swallow the next day
i drink whiskey because it makes me rowdy and alive
i drink whiskey because snarling rage needs to be let out sometimes
i drink whiskey because it sobers up my headi drink it because it helps me forget that i didn’t say no
i drink it because it makes me angry about what you did
i drink it because i remember the way your hand pushed mine down and the way your hand curled into a fist in my hair and yanked at the top of my dress
i drink it because i didn’t tell you no

if the curves of my stomach offend
you
i suggest you get the
*******
   of
me
but when this rage comes you speak
so
sof
      t
ly
and wonder why i look at you
like you burned
me but
you don't understand how predecessors of your gender have treated me.
kind words have never been spoken to me
soberly or
without weight behind them
like bartering in a dark corner bed while everyone else sleeps
where i stop being a woman, an entity, and become an unfeeling orifice whose name has suddenly become
                                          baby
because a few kinds words were mumbled against the shell
of my ear
you don't understand
how hands have grabbed me in the dark
and how my own hands have grabbed
only out of desperation
to feel something
you don't understand how hard it is for you to touch me and
for me not to feel lightening hot repulsion
as i lay drunk, ready to sleep.
you don't understand how when people touch my hair
all i can feel are hands curling against my scalp
and the way cold-shaking hands curled around my dress
and the way fear has been etched into the lines of my brain like a map of the city i know so well
like that alley i can't walk down alone at night
or that part of lexington where men shout at me hungrily
or the way stranger's hands sometimes 'slip'
you will never understand the weight of my insecurity because no amount of sweetness you can pour onto me can replace the venom fed to me by the men before you
no matter how 'enough' i may be with you
you will never understand how 'enough' isn't tangible
how beautiful doesn't really feel like a compliment
and how much
i doubt you actually love me

Enter my Mind
Mind your step
Breath in Deep
For what you
See here
Hear here
May make you weep
May make you weak
May make you Wiry,
Wild and Fearful
May make you feel
Alive and Cheerful.
I have fallen more times over
Tried to kick a habit
One that would make most sober
Tried to break the chains that have long held me down
Tried in vain
But it's in my vein's to act the clown
I try to act proud
Keep ma head down
But the world catches up
And when I finally pick myself up
I'm thrown back down.
So who's listening now!
Who's speaking out loud
of foul rumors spread
half of them true
oh please yes lord
I'm trying to pull through.
But I miss my baby blue
I miss my baby who
Could pick me up whenever I was down
Now I'm on the wrong side of the equator
We say we see each other later
But I know it ain't so.
So I'll keep marching on
Boldly, Bouldering  singing my song.
Until I get knocked down and i'm finally gone
I'll just keep getting right back up again
still marching on
to the beat of my own song
I'm a saintly sinner
A loser
A winner
I've been deeply thinking
Of all those times I've been drinking
Of all the **** ups and jokes
I don't wanna choke
On a bag of coke
I wanna stand strong and keep marching on
Leave the behind those habits that have done me wrong





Will Shake up any preconceptions you may have

What are these scars worth?
These dark purple lines.

Can I show you them,
And be an inspiration?

Can I cover them,
And be a coward?

What if I darken them?
Will that make me insane?

Oh and if I cross bridges,
Instead of going up stream,
That makes me a fake.
A liar.
An attention *****.
An emo.
A weakling.

Well look at you.
You must be very strong.
Very impossibly strong.
Or maybe you just weren't caught in a battle,
Because your blown up head couldn't make it out of the castle.