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 Mar 2019 Gillian Annie
Miss Ana
You see, I tried to tell him
about that night
"No" I say, "he didn't hurt me"
and no I didn't say no
but I said things like
"That's enough" and "I don't like that"
And yes at first I had wanted to
And no I wasn't so drunk I couldn't consent
But I turned my legs and offered something else
he didn't want that...
I faked it to make it stop because I didn't know what to else to say
I laughed about it with my friends because I was trying to get
another reaction.
I was trying to ask someone if it was ok...
I told my priest and he said I was asking for it
I told a pastor and she said "we all make mistakes"
I told him because I wanted to explain...why I didn't like that one thing...
I never told myself. Because I didn't want to hear what I had to say.
and that
that
is
the
problem
i'm jealous of the sun because it's the first to see you. i'm jealous of the coffee cup that gets to kiss your lips every morning. one day i'll be in their place.
 Mar 2019 Gillian Annie
tobi
thank god i can’t write good poetry
the best poetry comes from pain and hurt if you ask me
so although i can’t write like i used to
at least it means i’m doing alright
hurting is healing
a (the) woman’s body (pretty pleasing)

is my reciprocal

her waist is my happy place

her neck is my doorway

the rest is
best when she is mirror accessorizing,
preening, **** upon first rising,
tallying the gains and the losses

unaware of my watching,
never satisfied she, tho she is 98% unadmitting contented,
as she shifts her weight,
from knee to knee extended alternating
with slow delicacy

for the pleasure is trebled
for her imagine image reverberates
throughout the house

for ever(y) mirror is pre-positioned,
accidentally angled just so, lol,
her image transported from living room to dining alcove
all the way to the kitchen’s bleacher seats

she doesn’t know and asks why I’m grinning,
answer is
no confessionary, no telling I’m swelling and
sinning

eyes scheming-dreaming of her reciprocity

she smiles and says  
“good morning bad boy”

maybe she does know
but you won’t tell her,
we, you and me,
are pretty pleasing

she is 1/me
she is won over me
I miss you
                                 I kiss you, too
Oh, I love you )
                                     I live you, too
They say
'Follow your heart'
But if your heart is
In a million pieces,
Which piece do you follow?
 Mar 2019 Gillian Annie
Shang
beneath the star-struck, eternal vast,
    painted black, blue-grey black -
voices blister of the past.

haven't felt this way in quite some time.
    the restless nights. this cold, empty bed.
unrhythmic breaths flood my chest
    as I watch my mother die
                         for the second time.

it's moments like these you never forget.
    find yourself waking in a cold, hot sweat.
mind tracing every syllable, every breath;
    remembering every word you should have said.

with eyes like a beating heart;
   smells of daisy wanderlust.
soul-fire like passion's spark;
   worn-out smiles like last night's luck.
 Mar 2019 Gillian Annie
Thorns
Oof
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