It hurts that I can't hold you,
Tightly
Caressingly
lovingly

you can't love me because you're head over heels for other girls
who aren't me
never will be me
you'll never love me

I love you, you don't know that though
lets keep it that way
so when I cry myself to sleep
I know I won't hold you accountable
in my dreams

I walk in the front door after not seeing you for nearly three months
I see your eyes wander my body head to toe as if there was an expired inspection sticker plastered on my forehead
One of the first things you ask me is, "Hows that diet going?"
I could see it in your expression
when I seriously say to you that I am a full figured woman and I'm proud
You simply stared into my eyes letting me know that isn't a good thing.

Once upon a time you thought I was beautiful
When my skin was tightly stretched across my olive skin
collarbones like a razors edge
hip bones like a needles point
In your eyes I was perfect
My heart told me I was beautiful
The mirror in my mind told me I was too big to be beautiful
So here you are, knocking me down, piece by piece
Telling me the same things my brain did.
Saying that I should just stop eating
Left trying to sew back the broken pieces of my self esteem with these dull needles.


Your words replay in my mind like a broken record
"I'm not even asking you to be skinny."
Rolls off your tongue like poison in not only your mouth but your eyes when you look at me.
Skinny, that word makes my bones jello and my skin crawl
Skinny, the adjective that you so badly want me to be described as.
Skinny, makes summer and laughing with boys a lot easier
Skinny, would make eating less of a guilt thing and more of a survival thing
Skinny is what you want me to be.
Let me tell you that looking like a plastic make-believe children’s toy is not the definition of beautiful
Just remember, Bones are for dogs, and meat is for men.

your mean words slur
as they're 
trickling out of your mouth

like a waterfall of wounding

locution from your sober thoughts

but your drunken actions
 make me uneasy
as you stand there
 swiftly swaying
like a 
feather caught in the wind


at this very moment in time I think I hate you

your heart is no longer real

the blood flow that is long gone

is now diluted with cheap *****

the nasty habits you have gained 
are slowly dissipating the oxygen

that now gently dribbles through your 
inanimate lungs
and pains your ****** liver


your sunken eyes are glossy

eyes that used to be bright blue

have lost there hue and converted to a dull gray


you may have sober thoughts

but you'll always have drunken actions

I want to be a poet
I want to paint pictures in people minds
Use my fingers as paintbrushes
The palm of my hand my canvas
I want to be able to trace my words with utensils of artistry
Make tedious muddled letters become beautiful pieces that tumble off the tongue with ease and elegance
-
I've always wanted to be a poet
Ever since I was younger I would create stories
Let me make a memory of when I was just a little girl toppling over piles of crispy brass leaves that daddy raked in piles
Dancing in the rain as it melted my insecurities away from my expanded existence
-
My mother told me I would make a good poet
Look at my master piece mommy
I used to place words upon words telling you that I loved you as much as down comforter kittens or saying you reminded me of pollen covered petals that disembark on my rose flushed cheeks
-
Look mommy I finally wrote you a poem
But you can't read it because I don't need to to hear the wrath of your rage
Terrifying roars flying out of your mouth as if I'm being being pushed off a rocky edge free falling from sandy ridges and broken dreams
Fretting that you'll take it the wrong way but sometimes the wrong way is the right way to make it your way.

But mommy I've decided I am a poet,
my fingers my paintbrush& palms are my canvas.

I want to be kissed by a black angel

Let death herself take me beyond the veil

Let her sable wings conceal my inanimate body as she approaches me with open arms

We'll fly through dimensions of breath taking scenery with the notion of me one day seeing the world

She whispers, "What have you always wanted to be?"

I tell her, "I just want to be a bird."

Instead of being six feet under I'd rather be six feet up

Wings that defy gravity as they glide across alluring orange skylines that are painted upon our universe

I want my feathers embroidered in the constellations so that I too can be beautiful

Sheltered nest protect me from my biggest insecurities

Sturdy branches wrap me up like warm blankets pulling on the heartstrings of mother nature making her feel envious

Leaping off splintered birch bark into spacious reality

Drifting from unwanted complications hovering over graceful fields of solitude

Hollow bones sit like broken rose petals so delicate in the nest but so strong in the wind

I was kissed by a black angel

Finally, I am free.