As I'm lying in bed,
Fevered,
In wait,
Burning silhouettes of heat
With my smoldering skin

I wonder how much
Is psychosomatic
And if I'm so convinced I'm
Sick
That fever appeared when
I summoned it

When really I just wanted
So badly
To set aside responsibility
And sleep.

How powerful am I?
Powerful enough to **** myself
With a
Thought.

Thankful for now that all I wish for
Is sleep,
And not death.

I'm trying to convince myself
I know what something slow
And steady looks like.

But who can I fool
When I still recall so vividly
How on day two, he put his hand
Under my shirt
And I asked him not to stop
For eight long months?

How do I lie so convincingly
When I still remember so well
Before, before
How i would tell anyone who would listen:

"I fell in love the first day
I met him,
And did not stop for
The next year and a half."

How can I tell anyone,
How would they--
Could they?
Believe me,
When they know?

When they know I have such deep
Intuition for what I want,
That I dig my claws in by
Minute one,
And don't let go until

They beg.

My life is;

Françoise Hardy, on repeat
Falling a little bit
In love
With many bits of
Many people.

Maybe if I laugh hard enough this time,
Unapologetically,
Beautifully,
My mouth will be so large
I'll swallow you all

And maybe then I'll be so full of you
I'll finally be
Satisfied,
Satiated,
Fed.

When a spider is scared,
Too scared to run,
To bite,
It draws together.

Knees press inward,
Meeting at a point,
They cover their vulnerability
In an impenetrable wall
Of legs and cuticle.

Tonight, when I close my eyes-
When all I want is the silent,
Empty screen of sleep-
I see the octopedal child
Curled,
Frightened.

I think; "this is me."

I took my glasses off, because crying always clouds them

And I'd rather see you blurry and raw
than blurry with glass between us.

I thought I would look much
cooler
more collected
more mature
more together

If I stood, arms crossed, glasses
planted firmly
Don't cry
Don't cry

But I still ran after
your car, when you turned
out of my sight

And made you stop for one last
Kiss
Hug
Cry

When you were behind the wheel
In my sights for the last time
as someone I was allowed
to touch
to feel
to be

I turned my back,
lit my cigarette,
Like in the movies;
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry

And I started walking
to the sound of your car
walking the other way.

It had been too long since I paid close attention to myself.

As I sat by the water, small nymphs of some bug pattered down from the leaves above like a soft rain

Kinder to my skin than any water.

A fowl plucks himself, and the littlest spider begins a journey to cross me like my denim is so many stretching lands.

I am interrupting nature as humbly as I can manage, two cigarettes pass and I'm tired of self-ness already

But for a moment? I breathed.

Enter;
constant anxiety and
an inability to deny
my body what my brain
will swear is relief.
Stop.