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michelle Dec 2015
S C E N A R I O :

    your mother picks out
    paint chips at
    the hardware store;

    “Christmas Snow” “Teenaged Frost”
                      “American White”

    you don’t hear her ask you
    which shade is best

S C E N A R I O :

    your father measures
    the dimensions of
    your yard’s withered grass;

    Perimeter equals Length plus Width times two

    you can’t convert the inches
    without a calculator

S C E N A R I O :*

    you lift the hammer
    but lower it when
    you think of the nails;

    hit the Head, not the Point

    you’re good at breaking things
    not fixing them

              *
(someone smashed our picket fence)
michelle Dec 2015
S C E N A R I O :
there is   blood   under your nails
     from the curious lines
you   scratched   into your heart

the pain doesn’t bother you
   but the sight does

S C E N A R I O :*
there is a   hole   in your skin
     from the barely-healed scabs
you   pulled   off your knuckles

   you wanted to see
if there was anything underneath

    *
(what does it feel like to be alive again?)
michelle Dec 2015
when my  "i love you"s
thrash against the cage
of my throat
i wonder who i am protecting:
you or me?

it's such a crafty thing
managing to escape
when i thought you couldn't hear me

tell me,
could you feel it in
the press of my fingers on your chest,
the heat of my tongue tracing your lips
?

i guess you could because
when morning came
you
were

*gone
michelle Dec 2015
If  my path should be a river,
what a hazy one it'd be;
the banks shrouded in mist and murk,
the end nowhere to be seen.
And so I stray, a raft unmoored,
adrift and wondering,
"Does this guide me to a bay
or empty out to sea?"
I glance back down the marshy shore,
though fogged I know the way,
past that bend, above that fall,
a wistful dock still waits.
But though it's warm, and sweet, and safe,
the days were ever grey.
And so not stars, not love, not fate
could keep me there to stay.
michelle Dec 2015
Darling boy
you are a monster;
  swearing you’d stay  
  when you knew that you’d leave  

Wicked boy
you are a monster;
  ripping breath from their lungs
  and hearts through their teeth

Killer boy
you are a monster;
  dripping blood from your hands
  but you’re losing no sleep

Stupid boy
you are a monster;
  snarling at shadows
  but you smile at me

       *
(i know monsters because i am one too)

— The End —