world, forget me
as i'm nothing special
a blank slate
with no motivation

i stay sedimentary
afraid to fail
how can i fly
if i wont take a leap

world, forget me
i have nothing to offer
nothing to share
just an empty shell

a passing character in someone's story
i'll never be the one they read for
my life is nothing but trials
all which i've failed

world, forget me
please i beg you
don't waste your time
trying to see me as who i was meant to be

stop asking my how I feel
I will always say I don't know

im overcome with the need to reinvent myself and confess everything to everyone, to become so open that im bleeding out every secret ive ever had to keep all over the linoleum floor, but second thoughts stitch me back together with needles made of words meant to cut, whittled down thin enough to fit just underneath the skin, pulling gashes in my skin together with online threads about checking up on your friends that everyone reads and nobody listens to, performative pieces that people regurgitate to make you think they care but they dont, because we're too busy worrying about ourselves to think of anybody else. we're conceited by nature, reverse narcissists kneeling by a river, scrutinizing our reflections, searching, aching for imperfections so we can say "look at how horribly ugly i am and pity me". we're too proud to be pitiful and too pitiful to have any pride, paradoxical advertisements of lonely people too scared to ask for love.

my hands are shaking and my mind is buzzing and if this makes any semblance of sense to you then I am so terribly sorry.

A little girl looks up at her mother,
She says “when I get older,
I want to be a doctor, or a poet,
A dancer, or a pilot,
A lawyer, or an artist,
A designer, or a pianist”.
Her mother tells her sadly,
“Baby, I want you to be happy,
And do all the things I couldn’t possibly,
And be all the things I could never be”.

i can't hold on to   f  l  e  e  t  i  n  g   thoughts
                                                              
what did they give me

                               what am i on?

            can't feel a thing but my scratched raw wrists
                                                          ­                   ...and bloodied palms

    my life is gone,

                                what am i on?
  **** me please
      
                                             i can't hold on

why would you do that?
you know im a lesbian
you know I think 7th grade is too young for dating
so why would you tell my sisters I have a boyfriend?
because you know they'd buy it?
even though they know too
because you know they'd tell my parents?
because you know i'd get in trouble with my parents?
EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW TOO

God... why are we still friends?

the pink clouds move slow
slow like i was tricked by the years

gleaming over grass i walked
by feet
small in saturday's shoes

sharp patch grass and dirt that stuck to my back
replaced by the warmth of wood chips
familial love reflects off the set up sign
  swaying on the lawn

i feel its burn in my eyes

the ice cream man drives by
i guess the best flavor isn't in stock anymore

the sun keeps setting on my dreams to escape  
i already woke up from it all

in my native language, this is my name.

it means "Cannibal Woman"

it is well deserved

I am chickasaw.

September 9th, 2001
Gary and I were skating at a hospital on top of a huge hill, overlooking a valley
An ambulance came and took out a dead woman
Gary asked me why she wasn't moving or blinking
They hadn't closed her eyes yet
She must have died on the way

A car full of family and friends came in with the ambulance
They were all crying and hugging each other
One woman screamed hysterically
And grabbed at the woman's body asking her to wake up

I had to tell Gary that her soul went to heaven
I didn't believe a word of it, but I knew it'd be easier for him to understand
Two days from now, at 9 a.m., the planes will hit the World Trade Center
Killing over 3, 000 people
I will tell Gary that there is no God, and all of this is meaningless

But today, there is a God, and He has a plan for him

He doesn't know it, but a year from now, our family will be torn apart
And I will move far away and won't see or talk to him for five years
And as we sit on the hood of our car, the sun goes down
And he asks me what I wanted all my life

I tell him, "I don't know"

On and on we run away
From the things we are afraid of
On and on we run away
From the things we are afraid of
On and on we run away
From the things we are afraid

I don't tell him about the dream I had the night before

Where I'm riding in a car full of strangers
And singing to some song I've never heard and smoking a cigarette
We swerve off the road and hit a tree
I go through the windshield and hit the edge of the fence
Dislocating my jaw and flipping me into a wall
Where my neck is broken, and my skull is fractured
I bleed to death in excruciating pain

I will have this dream periodically until I meet all of the strangers one by one
Introducing them all to each other until we are a close group of friends

I will set these events in motion and I will die
But today in the warm light of the sunset
I don't see it, I just see the sunset
I smile back and shake my head

I have absolutely no idea, I am afraid.