Your fingers burned me
So when they asked me for proof
I lifted up my dress.
They dusted my thighs for
Fingerprints
Like they would a burglary.
They told me to explain again
What had happened.
I told them  how you
Pried me open like
The doors of a
Closed convenience store
Gutted me like an
Abandoned house
Left me for dead like
A deer after the
Headlights
They said there was
Nothing
They could do
I told them how you
Emptied me like
An alcoholic at the bar
After years of sobriety
Stained me like
The glass windows
In your church
Broke me like
The mirrors you
Can't bare to look into
Anymore
Anymore
Anymore
I can't look in the mirror
Anymore
They asked me for proof
So I lifted up my dress
They dusted my thighs
For fingerprints
I swear were there
I see them
The third degree burns
Covering my legs
My neck
My chest
I told them how
You made me into a
Museum of art
I don't want to be a part
Of
You made me into a
Museum of mosaics
And tragedies
And other broken things
I told them how
You made me into
Railroad tracks
That I lie on and
Wait for a train
That never comes
I told them about
the burns you kissed
into my skin
the blisters that
throb and
pulse
like the heartbeat
I used to have
They asked me for proof
So I lifted up my dress
For fingerprints I swear
Were there
They dusted my thighs
Like the crime scene
They were
Like the crime scene
They are
They asked me if
I had any other proof
I told them about the
Flashbacks
About how any hands
On me feel like your
Hands
About how you
Stripped me
Both physically
And mentally
About how I begged
You to stop
About how you didn’t stop
They said there was
Nothing
They could do
They said they were
Sorry
I said
Me too

Her lover was faithful
But it was not kind.
It took all of her dreams,
And left them behind.

Now she's withering,
Like a dying flower.
The addictive white dust,  
Stealing her by the hour.

Her family disowned her ,
Her house reposessed.
But her white dusty lover,
Oh,  it loved her the best.

I can feel winter coming.
It’s more than the wind that scrapes me every time I’m forced to go outside, it’s more than the ice in the air every time I breath, spiraling away from me like smoke.
It’s the ice that’s settling into the pit of my stomach, the pit of my soul.
I can feel myself freezing.
I don’t remember warmth, I live in the dark. I’ve got nothing and no one to keep me from this hailstorm
It’s the ice in my mind, every morning taking longer and longer to thaw, no matter how many pills I feed it
It’s the ice in my bones, freezing me in place. Movement isn’t impossible, it’s painful, and the cracks are starting to show through

I know what I do in winter.
I cry in winter, in the morning when I realize I’m awake and in the night when I realize I’m alone
I don’t walk in winter, I shuffle and I dig myself deeper into the ground with every footstep
I think too much in winter, I think myself in circles around the room and sometimes 6 feet below the ground, no longer pacing
heart no longer beating or burning

I know who I am in winter
I am a shadow in winter, the absence of light
I am a girl, just a girl, and hardly old enough to die, but apparently old enough to barely live
I am a fool in winter, who looks for warmth and finds a fire, enjoying the burns because she’s missed the sensation of feeling
I am alone in winter, because no one hears this story, and no one knows how far into the ground I fall

I hope to survive in winter, because that’s the most I can ask for

He thought she would stay
but she was smoke
dancing from his cigarette
entangling herself in his lungs
he could not hold her
she left swiftly and softly
flitting away through his exhale

Some people hate the smell of smoke
To me smoke meant early Thursday morning bongs rips
And the sun fighting it's way through the curtains
His 8 AM shirtless skin against mine and his face in my neck
The way our lips would play and tease each other, longing and smoke on our breath
Until we drifted back into dreams
Because we weren't about to let the morning win
To take that away from us