I know you think
I wear lipstick everyday
And my hands always
Smell like
Chai tea and raspberries

I know you think
My tongue always
Tastes like
Melted sugar
And peppermint

I know you think
I sleep in the same lace
Underwear
You find me in
On certain Sundays
In the spring
When the air is light
And my jeans
Don't stick
To my thighs

I know you think
I'm larger than life

Above chipped teeth
And bruises
And cigarette ash
And acne

I know you think
My eyes don't turn
Blood red
And poison
When I cry

I know you think
My finger nails
Are always
Freshly painted

And I always wear
A bra
That fits

I know you think
Yoga pants are
My comfy clothes,
Never gray sweat pants
With a faded red stain
Between my legs

I know you think
My calves are always
Soft, hairless, and toned

You think
I wait by the phone
With vanilla incense
Burning in a red robe

But you're wrong
And that's impossible

I won't let you in
Cause I won't be
The one
To shatter
Your whole
Pretty, little world

I'm disgusting
Sometimes

I sleep with
Way too many
Girls and guys

And sometimes I cry so much
My eyelids peel
Til I look like
Leather face
And I don't leave my house
For 8 days

And in those 8 days
I shower
Maybe twice

My skin gets rough
In the winter

Right now
I have a
Pimple on
My left shoulder
And every morning
It looks a little
Meaner

My ***** spill
Out over the top
And the sides
Of my favorite
Sport's bra

And I don't care

I smell like burnt oil
And cheap hair dye
Half of the time

I haven't washed
My sheets in a while
And they smell like
Salt water
And chlorine

You put me up on a pedestal
From which I refuse to fall

So I'll stay here,
Far,
Untouchable

You'll never love me
With sticky tampons
In my garbage can
And half drank beer bottles
On my bedroom floor

I'll stay here,
Far,
Untouchable,

Safe

I have heard about losing lovers,
I know about it,
It's like a flower losing colour,
And It happens,
What I did not know,
Is losing a friend,
Chatting and calling them "bro",
But in the end,
They never needed me,
I was just a follow along nobody,
They were my best friends,
And now they don't care for me,
Even if the world ends,
Losing a lover,
Is like a flower with no colour,
Losing a friend,
Is like a dying flower,
Wilted and bent!

The waters of the East River were blue,
bluer than I'd ever let myself expect,
bluer than the sky today.

The sight of the lights and shadows
Swimming over the passengers wasn't something
I'd known I was missing.

A few uncharacteristic craning necks;
I wasn't the only one
Newly displaced from below-ground.

Outside,
It was bright enough to color-blind;
The view from the window
For one moment
Rendered a monochrome tableau
Of New York's industrial past.

Then the red brick buildings,
Precarious window units and
Makeshift curtains of every color.

Between these-
Between these--
Heart-stopping views of
Sun-washed streets like rivers,
The sunroofs and food carts
Glinting like silver scales
In the early evening glare.

Each time I surged forward,
Gripped the overhead pole convulsively,
Drank in that view
As greedily as anything;

I'd never loved the city
Like I loved it from fifty feet up.


And the walk home was
Novel from the west;
Suddenly the sidewalks ramble-wide,
Suddenly the parks,
Suddenly the people.

A block from my apartment,
A teenager looped his finger
Through the dangling handle
Of my grocery bag as we passed-
Pulled gently,
Not tugging away,
Leading me into a turn.

We were facing each other then,
Even as our feet carried us in different directions;
"Can't I take you out?"

His youth and my mood made it charming-
His wide eyes and narrow shoulders
Held none of the threat
That comes with a man's stature-
And I couldn't help
But soften the no with a smile
Before carrying on
Towards home.

She doesn't have to be your mother
For you to not call her a ***** for not doing what you want.
She doesn't have to be your sister
For you to not call her a ***** for having *** even once.
She doesn't have to be your daughter
For you to expect boys to respect her as a person.
"What if she was your mother/daughter/sister?"
Shouldn't be a valid question.
It shouldn't be a question that makes you stop and think,
"That's true, I need to treat women like I'd treat my female family members."
As though it's given you the epiphany
That even women you don't know are entitled to decency.
And if that question is what made you change your ways,
Get rid of the notion that women can only be treated to
The same amount of basic respect as men
If you can imagine your mother's/sister's/daughter's face staring back.

and did you hear me?
i called your name in my sleep
i tasted you on the tip of  my tongue when i woke

There are two sides to every story,
said the husband to the cop.
She annoyed me ’til I shot her;
how else could I get her to stop?

There are two sides to every story,
said the burglar at his trial.
They had the stuff I needed;
they’ll only cry a little while.

There are two sides to every argument,
said the person without facts.
I’ve a right to my opinion;
I’ve no need my brain to tax.

There are two sides to every story, but,
both may not be of merit.
If one side’s without value,
let’s not waste the time to air it.

She flew into my heart like a dove,
and left a mark like an earthquake.
One day I was writing poems about love,
the next, I’m writing about heartbreak.