i can only love in splinters,
in tsunamis.

i have become all the
    
          things you hate

(smoke and      bones

and         red lipstick)

but i    wonder if you

would   still   think  i

have the sun shining

outofmyskin or  that

i gave every   star its

place  in  the  galaxy.

I missed you before you even left.
     “One day she will leave,” echoes
tirelessly throughout
      a hallway once adorned with love.
  I was too blinded those days,
even now in all truth
my own cigarette smoke covered
   the betrayal in your eyes
each time you told me,
                “I am truly, madly deeply,
                      in love with you.”
Smoke rings filled the room,
and in the haze
  of mist,
a Judas kiss.    

© Sia Jane

i was hoping you would take
everything from inside me at
least         swallow  part  of  it
because i've taken   bullets to
my legs   mostly from myself
because i was too  b  i  g   too
small     too too too too much
for my  own  skin  to  handle
that i thought about          the
roundness       beneath      my
surface everysecondof  every
dayuntil i  learned to despise
circles and buy everything in
smallboxesandnarrow    lines
where i hope to fit one day is
your glucose enough for you
is your steak justrightdo you
want another slice of cake do
you  want  to  be  a   w h o l e
planet or a piece  of cotton in
the wind do you want to  eat
me do youwant to eat me do
you want to eat me  until i'm
whole                              again

My Traitor’s Heart

I cut your heart open with a knife,
And drink you up like the elixir of life.
My body would now be the perfect host
To house the remnants of your ghost
Forestalling your indignant daily riposte.

At the dining table, I compulsively realign
Silverware. I take a crystal glass, pour red wine,
Knowing I’ve committed a murderous sin
Goosebumps form on every inch of my skin
Dark memories resume within.

You spoke to me of girls undreamed-of
You taught me lessons of absent love
Such stories only fed my vengeance,
And now my body pays it's penance;
Flesh laid bare. A life sentence.

Tonight, I trace with fingers, tramlines of
Forgiveness; my Mourning Dove.
I am now so pure, and Satan
Cannot punish me with rattan
Palm. I was never part of his grand plan.

© Sia Jane