Sometimes i wish i could write poems
with all the similes clinging to your thoughts like barnacles.
And describe people with metaphors that wrap around the actual meaning like weeds grow on to other, more pretty plants.  
It would be nice if i could use edgy things like cigarette butts, half filled bottles of beer, and lipstick stained papers with a number jotted down
to describe mundane things like sadness and fear,
although lipstick stains and cigarette butts do leave an awfully mundane stench behind.

Next two years, college, poetry, poetry,
You, me, ***, condoms, birthcontrol?
Mother, permission, cleaning room, cleaning life, windex, lemon scented windex.
Windows, escape, Ani Difranco, 32 flavors, 32 flavors and then some
I am 32 flavors and then some.
My grades are 1 A, 2 Bs, 3 Cs and 2 Ds?
Atleast I vary. Colleges look for variation.
I can cross my eyes. Only one other person in my family can cross their eyes.
This was my last quarter to make an impression.
Impress. Smile. Eye contact. I have to meet your mother.
I have to go shopping
With your mother.
I lied to my mother
Mothers dont like lying
My parents asked me if something tragic happened to me
I used to wish that something tragic would happen to me
Nothing tragic has happened to me
Unless you call immense boredom with tiny people on a tiny state tragic
Which for a matter of fact I do.
You ask me whats going on
I’m a smart girl
Im flattered that you think so
But I doubt your surgeon parents will agree
How many AP classes am I taking...
0.
This is so out of character.
Youve never avoided your problems like this before
Silly parents
You’d avoid your problems too if they were
Life ambition, college, ***, condoms, birthcontrol?
1 A, 2 Bs, 3 Cs and 2 Ds, cleaning room, cleaning life
Cleaning out my character
Because I have to impress your mother.
Should we get you a therapist?
We shouldve gotten you a therapist last year
Dealing with stress is hard for anyone
You just need help.
I do not want your help.
Dealing with stress is not hard
Put your head in the sand and listen to Ani Difranco
32 Flavors
32 flavors and then some
I am 32 flavors and then some

Love is pretty much every single person involved
turning into a ****.
Curling, griping, grasping someone so tight
that they squirm.
We like to say that this is an act of affection
but really, whats so lovely about latching on
to something that always changes?
because as far as I'm concerned, that is not lovely at all.
That is just plain self harm.

All people are created equal.
*******.
If you say that then you have no respect
No one is equal to another
because that would mean that
every one of us is replaceable.
You equal you, no one else.
No one is less and no one is more
but no one is equal.

If i reacted the way normal people did
than id probably tell you that you are  
a no good, wretched, hypocritical, *******.
Because that how you act
at least towards me.
but because i do not react the way normal people do
i simply take it
and move on.
Half because i don't want to loose you
and half because i can't.

Crying under the covers
half hoping that you suffocate
is not cute.
Breathing into a paper bag
because you can't breathe the air
that everyone seems to inhale so easily
is not pretty.
Ruining yourself on the outside
to fix whats on the inside
is not beautiful.
I don't care how many
line breaks you add,
how many fonts you change,
how many pictures you can etch into your skin.
It is not something to allude to.

Her name was Mave.  
She had gorgeous long red hair
and green like apples eyes.
She liked to collect circular rocks
because they gave her luck.
She was terrified of driving
because just the idea of trusting others
with giant metal machines going at 70 mph
made her head hurt.
She loved freckles because she said
that they looked like little hearts on peoples faces.
She hated pumpkins and carrots. First of all because
they were orange just like her hair, and she liked to think
that the color was special and not given to things as mundane as a food.
Second of all, shed like to believe that shed be caught dead
before she ever asked for anything pumpkin flavored and conform to the 'white girl'.
and carrots just tasted funny.
She was inconsistent, and while some said it kept them on their toes
the truth is, all it did was keep them wrapped around her finger.
She was careless and didn't think much before she acted.
It could be seen as spontaneous, but actually it was just hurtful.
She loved the winter, because her cheeks matched her hair
and she stood out against the pure white snow.
She loved summer as well because she didn't need to be held
to anyones expectations and she could simply disappear.
She was an all or nothing type girl. Its why she either summer
or its polar opposite winter.
Its why she wanted to either be your lover
or be a stranger.

You will always be the ocean
and i will always be the sea glass

you will be wearing my hard edges
and i will be swaying to your every current

Until you wash me up on the shore
and start to only come around every once in a while.

I hate you for holding me in your bed like it meant more
I hate you for thanking me for sleeping over
like I had been special
like I had done you a favor.

I hate that you made me think that waking up alone in the morning was normal.
I hate that you never really hurt me enough for me to let go.
You are teaching me to abandon things before they abandon me
my first lesson was you
and I still haven't mastered the art quite yet.

I hate that you are always there when I'm feeling desperate
I hate the way you touch my waist and drunkenly ask me to stay
and how I always do
thinking that maybe I was the reason you wore a button down shirt.

She spent days building ice castles in the sun
He spent days trying to light fire to his house in the rain.
She drank coffee laced with poison to nurse her soul back to health
He took tablets of visions so he could hide from himself.
And when they met the fires thrived
the poison killed
and the visions overcame
and the ice castles turned
to puddles

Destruction of our own kind
toys at the comprehension abilities
that lack.
Those who can't understand
that
As we
diminish
demoralize
those who produce life
as we
******
oppress
half our countries history
to allow those who are threatened
by the ever forming modernization
we **** off our masses
we break our chance at reproduction
until there is no one left to control
but oneself.

I dont have a tendency to write things when im happy,
Only when things are breaking or crashing down.
Dysfuntion usually laces the words that end up on my paper
Going down my readers throat, so that im not the only one
Whos infected with mayhem.
I am still writing about dysfuntion
But with the flavor of fantastic confusion.
Because I used to think that when you met someone
Youd know right away, that they were important.
Until now, I found out that you could meet your best friends ex
As a sophomore in spanish 3 and wait for another year
And still not know that they make you smile.
That my dear is dysfunction.
You can then finally meet them in a class
That you werent going to take in the first place.
And let them read about your biggest fears and happiest moments
Finding out that you dont have one bit of trouble letting them in.
Still you wait though, because its highschool
You will either break up soon or break up when you graduate
So why bother in the first place, if you know itll only end in distaster and heart break.
But they stay and they let you figure things out
And you ask for time
And you ask for time
And you ask for time
And thats what they give you.
And you question and question and question
And they answer and answer and answer
Until you have no choice but to accept that they are special
Because they dont make you nervous when they say the word girlfriend
And they don’t make it awkward when you ask them questions not fit for 3 weeks
They arent juvinille with the expectations of hand holding and careless I love yous.
So you let them come to your house and meet your parents and you go to theirs
You make the mistake of developing a loose mouth, and take oppurtunities
To tell your uncles and aunts about how wonderful they are and you feel yourself
Digging a hole deeper and deeper into the ground made of them.
And you know that when it ends, you will be so deep
That it will take you forever to get out.
But you stay and that is dysfuntion in its finest
Because you know the longer you stay, the more itll hurt to leave
But you stay anyways because they make you smile, and they make you laugh
And they make you happy.
So if this is what type of dysfuntion my writing will be laced with then
Let it come by the gallons.

I don’t want to be touched in ways that make my insides turn to licorice
I don’t want you to hold my hand because it binds us to the public and you own me.
I don’t want to kiss in movie theaters.
I don’t want to have *** in the back of your car.
I dont like doing things that feel like a betrayal to myself
Every time our hands intertwine or our lips press together
In a half hearted attempt to rekindle the butterflies that are long gone
Sit at the bottom of my stomach. Dead.
When I fake *******, smiles, lies about how happy I am
I feel apart of myself tangle up
Making me smaller and smaller until im a ball of knots.
I don’t want to be anyones *** interest
Safety boat
Most important person because it limits me to what I can be to myself.
I don’t want to be touched in ways that betray myself and make me any less of my own most important person.

I know you hate me
with parts of your heart
you never even knew existed
and i can't deny
that i deserve it and that i was selfish
with your feelings
and careless with your heart
but please don't let your life suffer
because of my mistakes
don't fall into the trap of sadness
because you deserve better than me
and the only way you'll get it
is by taking yourself seriously
dont ***** it up
you don't get a rerun

“I want that one” I exclaim pointing to the unicorn on the bottom shelf. I choose this one because she seems sad because all she’s ever seen was peoples feet. I pick her because maybe no one else will buy her because she’s at the bottom shelf and taller people wont even see her. She is soft and white and has cotton candy pink horns, hooves and bows around her neck.
“It looks cross-eyed” my brother Charlie observes in a critical way that night at dinner. He’s just upset that he didn’t get to pick anything because it isn’t his birthday. It doesn’t matter though, the new member of my stuffed animal collection is named Sparkles, and nothing anyone says will change that she is my new best friend.
After dinner everyone goes to walk the dog and I bring Sparkles, because it would be silly to leave her home by herself. We drive down the road and pretend to have tea on the beach. To my happiness, everyone sits in a circle. Sipping on tea and complimenting each other on clothes we aren’t wearing, food we aren’t eating and things we didn’t do, I’m surprised that even Charlie is partaking. The sun begins to set and we begin to pack up, or rather my Mother and Father pack up while Charlie holds Sparkles by the scruff of her neck and threatens to throw her in the bushes.
“Sparkles is gonna get lost Em, too bad you cant catch me” he cries running towards the thick brambles.
“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting her!” I screech after him, desperatly trying to overcome his head start. But i’m too late. By the time I get to him he is already preparing to throw her into the prickers.
“NO!” I yell as I watch Sparkles get launched into the 8 foot tall bush of thorns.
I shove Charlie into the bush, which results in cuts all up his arms and back.
“Emma,what are you doing?!” my parents exclaim coming at the sound of Charlies cries.
“He threw Sparkles”
“Thats never an excuse for pushing” they scold.
“But..Spark”
“No Emma, you should have thought of that, we have to go fix Charlie” im cut off
They don’t understand. Sparkles made it so that everyone drank tea together, and stood for the small things to be noticed. She was my best friend, we were both small things standing up to big people. Of course they don’t understand. Big people don’t know about small people problems, they only know about fixing what has been broken. I want to rewind to when we all were talking about the fantasies of castles and secret twin siblings, where we were all small people for a minute.

Decided you didn't want me
after you figured out you couldn't finish
unless you couldn't see my face.
Learned that if it was anyone
but the other girl
that you'd rather not be aware of who.
So you could atleast pretend
you still had the one you really wanted

Look for the people
who fall in love with your laugh.
Not ones who fall in love with your style
or your haircut
or your makeup.
Look for people who
love your sneeze
your eye color
the way you wake up in the morning
how you talk when your drunk
how you hold your pointer finger on your nose when your nervous.
Fall in love with the people who fall in love
with the things about you
that are unchangeable.
that way you know they they have
truly and honestly have
fallen in love with you.

Hello my old heart
i'm sorry to say
that during all the time you took off
due to being broken
you my dear
have been replaced.
For what you may ask?
Because you were always
too busy sitting under my ribcage
knitting scarfs and hats of messy emotions for me to wear.
It made it a slight bit difficult for your co-worker, the brain, to function.
And you know how important it is, that he does.
See this new heart doesn't talk much.
Its calmly sits and listens obediently to the brain.
To be honest, its wonderful.
As much as i remember how fantastic it was
to let you, let me love.
I also remember how much i hated
how you let me hurt.
So now i want you to think of this
next time you are placed under someones ribcage,
If you had only listened to the brain    
maybe you wouldn't have broken
and then maybe i never would have fired you.

When I tell you that you scare me
I want you to take it as the biggest compliment
That I could possibly give you.
Because people who come and go
Who just scratch the surface and leave
Are easy to deal with.
They don’t make me believe that if I cry hard enough
All the bad will be washed away
They dont make me want to kiss them for the feeling of
Time passing and not regretting one second of it.
They dont make me fall apart like
A crumby piece of cake squished by a toddlers hand
They dont make me laugh until you cant even hear
My sound let alone my words
They just don’t make me feel anything.
So when I tell you that you scare me
Its because you make me feel things in extremes.
Its because I know that there is no possible way
That I can get out of this and not be changed
I will never be able to go back to the person I used to be
Because you wont scratch the surface
You will break me, and scatter me into a million different pieces
And maybe thats why you scare me so much
Because you make it seem okay
To not be a whole
And just be pieces of undetermined fate.

Atoms are 99.99% empty space.
And that is the only thing keeping me from losing myself
In the thought that we never actually held hands
We never touched
We never kissed
We were never in contact.
Except I'm still left with
Your smell
Your thought
Your vision
Your .001 of matter that happened to touch the most important .001 of me.

You always said you wished I had long hair.
So I told you I'd dye my short hair, green.
You threatened to leave me.
I told you if you ever got a buzz cut, I'd cry.
Neither of us knew that I'd cry because my hair got longer and
when I did cry, you got a buzz cut.
Suddenly I was the one leaving.

Gut me.
finger my seeds
from the core flick
them from your thumb up
and onto the floor where you
will only step all
over me.

We are told that everything we do, has a consequence.
Those who dangle their hearts in front of dogs
could be left with a tattered ones.
Those who swim in deep water could drown
Especially those who never learned to stay afloat by themselves

you say that love is more complicated than cause and effect

and that mouths speak what brains think and hands touch what hearts want
And sometimes you feel like you're being controlled
not by your soul but by a group of ruthless
limbs and organs that could be exchanged
when you die anyways.

and that carrying love is like

seeing the entire sky after only seeing out your window.
hearing the gunfire voice that you still learn to sing along to.
feeling the cold without your coat to keep you comfortable, warm and safe
and you are left disoriented, deaf, and numb

but you come back even after the consequence
with a sewn up heart
and a new life jacket.

you say that they will always come back to the ocean
even after its left them gasping.

You are leaving me and i hate you
and the way your feet smell
and the way you never put the ice cream back.
I don't know what I'm going to do without you
I became accustomed to your ***** sock smell...i even like it now
and i enjoy my ice cream a little melted anyways

You are leaving me and i don't care
i can do better than you anyways
I bet you'll never find a girl who won't question your sexuality.
I don't know what I'm going to do without you
What if i never find anyone who can be my best friend while ******* me
you're definitely not gay. i don't know why i said that.

You are leaving me and i am crying
I didn't even love you
It wouldn't have worked anyways
I don't know what I'm going to do without you
i love you and it was supposed to be forever
*I love you and it isn't going to be forever

I will not ask you what youve buried
With the hands that you used to pull me out of the earth.
I shouldnt ask you what youve tried to pull from the sky
With the fingers that you used to reach me to the clouds
I wouldn’t ask you what you’ve kept silent
With the mouth that you used to convince me from the shadows
I couldn’t ask you what you’ve run away from
With the legs that ran towards me.
I wont ask you why you did
I wont ask you why you shouldve
I wont ask you why you wouldve
I wont ask you why couldve
And neither should you.

Its funny how i expect you to talk to me
when every time i see you i duck in cover
and cross my fingers that i didn't look as bad
as i did in that picture someone took this morning.
Why do i think that if i don't have enough guts
to simply look up and smile, that'd you'd have the guts
to come over and converse with my high-pitched comments.
Maybe its because i don't want to smile in case you don't smile back
or maybe its because i don't want to be too available or then ill look desperate.
I really need to be more confident and move past my phase of seductively doing nothing

The first time i brought you to a party
i drank so many ***** sodas that
i could only mumble a barley audible
i wanna go home 3 hours later.

You politely excused the both of us
giving the correct amount of goodbyes
or so I'm told, and you wrapped me up
in your fuzzy coat, picked me up like a baby.

I heard that you laid me down in the backseat
of your 1975 navy blue volvo.
Kissed me on the forehead
and turned on the heat.
You put on my favorite band, and played my favorite song
and drove very safe, checking on me
every 3 light posts.    

You brought me back to my apartment
and very respectfully stripped me of my clothes
and replaced them with one of your old t-shirts
and a pair of gym shorts.
Laid me down on my bed
and climbed in with me, pulling the covers
over our bodies. You wrapped you arms
around my drunken skeleton
kissed my shoulder and slept.

But really what happened
was i drank so many ***** sodas
that i didn't see you sneak off with the nymphish  
looking redhead. So many vodkas
that i could dream out a gentlemanly situation
and enough alcohol that you could take credit.

i have never
not once
not even one time
been able to write a story.
I have prepared characters
hair
eye
skin color.
I have prepared their
likes
dislikes
quirks.
I know when they
are born and when they die.
I know why they hate driving on highways
and why they love sour cherry jellybeans.
I know who they fall in love with and
with whom it doesn't work out.
But why, for the love of god,
can't i write a story about them.

When you say let's get wasted
I'm sure that you don't mean
That you wanted to be a waste of space
A waste of energy
A waste of a perfectly good night.

I'm sure you don't know
That wasted could mean
To say words that cut up others insides
Like they swallowed the bottle
That is holding your poison.
You get the silky numbness and
they get the brutality of the oblivion

And you definitely don't know
Your son giving you CPR
As you collapsed right in front of him
In the middle of a poker game.
You were even sober.
And then you were dead.

You had wasted all your time
Wasting your chances to say I'm sorry.
Wasted your life being wasted

You aren't worth my words

From being a teenage girl
In a public high school
I see my fair share of drug deals
And stoners lighting up in the bathroom
Kids over dosing in the parking lot.
Ive been to a good amount of parties
Where my best friends sprawl out all over their
Newest boy interests, sipping down alcohol
To take off just a little bit of pressure.
Ive held hair back as someone throws up
And admits that they did it on purpose
Because they ate that piece of pizza
And that they hate making them self gag.
Ive smelled the marajuana
Lacing the words about how youre fine
And how your ‘so relaxed’ now
And you dont care about anything
And so now ive relaized that
These things are drugs
For when you feel everything
To make you feel nothing

A half filled Kool-aid filled water bottle
lays next to your pile of tangled emotions
that you've finally let pour out
Of your locked up body.
You claim that society has turned us all
Into casualties of greed and competition.
That people have been born into lives
that teach them to focus on being successful
rather than being happy.
So as you cry under your covers at night
struggling to breathe at a normal pace
please remember that you don't have to be society
to be happy.  
Learn to be your own world
refuse to be a casualty of society.

The reason i go on carnival rides
is because they spin faster
than the thoughts in my head.
I just needed to know that that was possible

Its kind of like the reason i go to horror movies
I like to know that i have a reason
to be scared out of my mind
even if i actually scared
of myself
not the things in the movie

Or the reason i drink ***** from the water bottle
Its nice to feel all over the place
and not have anyone judge you or think
that you a mess
because you can't handle the stress.

But really the reason i do these things
is because they do an excellent job
of simply hiding what a train wreck i am.

On the back of a math worksheet
You wrote down reasons.
Then on the back of a history worksheet
You wrote down ways.
The back of your physics homework
Had “im sorry’s”
And they all had tear stains.

On the back of my hand
I wrote down reminders to call you.
In the note pad on my phone
I wrote down plans to come talk  
And in the back of my mind
I wrote down ways to make you happier.

At 2:30, right after school
You were in your basement with pills.
You had your math,history, and physics worksheets
All laid out on the floor around you.
At 2:45 you dialed my phone, pills in hand.


At 2:30, right after school
I was on my bed looking up spanish vocabulary
I had my homework all laid out around me
At 2:45 I received your call slightly worried because
You never call, only text.

What are you supposed to say
When your best friend is on the other line
Dying before they’ve even taken the pills.
How are you supposed to make them feel better
Because at this point you both are at a loss.

Dialing 911 on the home phone
Doesn’t seem to difficult
But it really is when you can practically
Hear the minutes going by
Minutes that could determine a life from that point on
Minutes that did.

I heard that you tried again a couple months later.
I guess you smartened up and didn’t tell me this time.
You seem to have awful luck
When it comes to following through with your intentions
But while it may be unfortunate for you
Its so lucky for me because even though we don’t speak
Id like to think that one day you see that
I only wanted to stop you
From hurting yourself.

The smell of brains frying
nerves running short
teenage desperation
all mixed with lubricated hail marys
poisoned self medication
because we know best
and we best know
how to do it ourselves.

The failed attempts at self justification
cling to the lockers trying to remember
a time in the last 4 years that they took a breath.
Anxiety floods the student population
when they realize that the alcohol
can't drown the reality anymore.

If you though that having me wrapped around
your finger was something to be proud of
prepare to suffocate because i have nothing
else to hold onto and i am drowning.

People value grades and numbers
Like an under-confident teenage girl values her make-up.
Both are always at hand trying to prove themselves
Something that their not. The only difference is one hides
The physical lacking, and the other hides
The personal lacking. Status doesnt equal opinion
It doesnt equal thoughts or qualities.
It equal the amount of space that your brain has left
To memorize other peoples discoveries.
Value the things that are already taking up space
In the remarkably capable brain of yours.
Voice the things that you’ve tried  to replace
With equations and vocabulary because  
Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.

You say my personality revolves around exhaustion.
I say yours revolves around passivity and foolishness.

And now when we talk, my hands become alien things. Touching and pulling at things that are just fine where they are. My words become too big in my mouth, and tumble out whenever it opens. Maybe you should hear them, maybe you shouldn't

You stopped filling my bucket
and now i am empty

“Ladies first”. He uses his theoretical masculinity
To duck his way out of everything. He crosses his legs and looks accusingly at her.
She stands and tells him that he reminded her wasted energy,
Of the tall glasses of apple juice,
Drunkenly tossed at the electrical outlet,
To get some type of “Zap”
Though she said it more like,
“Zzzaap” wiggling her fingers to try and show a current of energy.
She said it as if she didn’t really know,
What type of reaction she was looking for.
He is quiet until he isn’t.
She reminded him of a seconds old baby.
Blue because the reality of oxygen hadn’t touched her yet,
And he was still waiting for her to turn into a peachy color and embrace reality.
“Before we met, I hadn’t slept in my bed for weeks,
You couldn’t even get through a coffee date”.
Her eyes are fiery and she says something that a person with fiery eyes would say
“Before we met, I didn’t need to have ******* with people to feel intimacy”.
That is an explainable response.
Anyone would say that
So I guess that implies that everyone has fiery eyes.
He scoffs and begins to stand and she mimics him
“Don’t make me throw apple juice at you”
“I’m a broken outlet remember”
“I haven’t thrown apple juice at you yet, we don’t know that”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t breathe with me around,
And I’m more of a margarita guy anyways”
He leaves
She cries
They both have fiery eyes.

I hope your happy
You are officially
The only person
That I've lost
a full nights sleep over.
I don't think you understand
Though how much
Of me you hold in your palm
Because if you did
You wouldn't be
So **** careless

The problem is
People only see as far as the last sentence in the newspaper article.
They see that my best friend stabbed his father.
They see that he was planning it.
They see that he failed in his attempt to **** him.
They see that at 1:30 am he was arrested at the scene.
They see he will be tried as an adult for premeditated attempted ******.
They don't see anything else.

At our little brothers baseball games we would search for quarters to get airheads.
On the bus we would share stories about our latest failures.
He was trying to get sober.
He had failed to **** himself twice.
He had serious mental problems that everyone underestimated
He needed help.
He didn't get it.

He's alone in a juvenile detention center, isolated.
Mentally unstable and yet again without a support system.
Doomed for the rest of his life.

So excuse me when i tell you to shove it up your ***
When you say that i should stay away in fear of being remembered
Because all he'll do is remember you forgot him when he needed you most.

Up until i was 12 years old
i used to only read this giant dictionary.
See this book had a whole section
dedicated to names.
Boys names
Girls names
Their meanings
Their roots.
I would sit up in my room
with my hair hanging in front of my face
in my sisters old Beatles t-shirt
and highlight the names that made me happy.
Now this may seem cute and nice, but really its not.
I would pretend that i was having kids
and that these were the names.
i would plan their likes and attitudes.
Big events in their lives.
Interests,hobbies, all the way down to favorite foods.
The fact is that this makes me a hypocrite
because one of the scariest things in my life
is expectations and for 12 years
i sat and planned my unborn children.
and this is why i don't want to have kids anymore
because i don't want them to have to live up to my expectations
because what if i don't love them anymore if they don't.
because i sure don't love me anymore.

Dear you ignorant narcissistic fuxk boys,

I left my favorite bra in the backseat of your car...I know that i took one of all your matching socks, but its my favorite and makes me feel pretty like you never did.

Yesterday after i wore one of your old sweaters, I sat next to a girl in class who smelt like your deodorant. It must have ******* with her head cause i did too.

I forgot (maybe intentionally) to get rid of all your sticky notes that you used to leave in my wallet. Sometimes its nice to remember when we were in a beauty of a soon to be hurricane. It doesn't matter, you wanted a housewife anyways.

I used to fall asleep thinking about what pictures would line our fireplace. Our baby girl, our other baby girl, a family vacation, and a picture of us...with a crack in the glass right down the  middle of my face. Oh wait, thats what happened when you threw it at the wall behind my head.

Sometimes i want to tell you these things, but then i remember all i want is my bra back.

You hold me together the way bobby pins keep the hair out of my face. Keeping the distractions hidden from my eyes.

Spinning me in circles, except not like a carousal, but like a blender, slicing me into pieces at the same time.

"Most people are too afraid to feel like this, and for that I actually find you incredibly brave"

Everything we do, has a consequence. So if you plan on wrapping me around your finger, you best prepare to lose circulation.

I wish on you the knowing-knowing
that your being is tangled up in the talons of a hawk
that is already trying to flee the room.

And that your being in filled with flesh and emotions,
heart and lust, nerves and purpose, as I am.

That when he holds a sign that claims sanctuary,
make sure he is promising your own

Not the promise to the end of his hunger for touch,
for confirmation that he will not be alone indefinitely.

And when you start to allow him to take bites
of your meaty being, He is not there for your taste

just because you've fallen in love with your predator
doesn't mean you should give him your bones