woke up this morning
to clean snow
falling on my fingers
and my cigarette
and thoughts of you
i wish you could just as simply
brush from my shoulders.

I ****** up.
fell for someone who could never
care for me, and I'm paying
the **** consequences.
I got too lost
too fast
too wrapped up in
who I wanted you to be,
and not who you are,
or what you're capable of.

oh, inconsistent me.
crying out for
consistency.

i may dog-ear the pages
of your heart,
or drop it in the
bath tub a few times.
but i promise i will
read it to the end.

he loved me the way
a dog nurses an open wound.
smothering, all teeth barred
and tongues.
And this won't be like
crush a lightbulb
in your fist.
more like slowly removing glass
from the inside of your palm.
and i loved him the way
i would spit it onto his voicemail
every syllable dripping with
the shot of whiskey
i downed for courage.
and i'd feel as ashamed as i do
going to work in
last nights clothes.
cringing.

lie face down on the floor.
feel gravity pulling down
every part of your body.
breathe.
tell yourself
"this is real.
this is real.
this is my life."
breathe.

after four months together,
is this even a
step forward?

"I hope you're saving those"

Dare me to,
I want to split my
obsession
of language between my sides.
And when he pulls my heart from the right of me
and stares at all the ****** pieces
of what is left of my body,
I will say
"oh my god.
'It's been so good, my god, this love has been so good."
His eyes are the only christmas lights
I deserve to see all year long,
up against the midnight black of the coffee he drinks,
his blue eyes against the rose of my wine.
And when I finally
feel the splash of his lips
against
mine
the splash of his lips against mine
(melting me like a sugar cube)
I may feel the tug of red strings
between my heart his,
and in a sweet symphony and unsaid morse code,
"this has been what I've always needed,"
dots and dashes,
"this has been what I'm waiting for."

I loved him.
And sometimes,
he loved me as well.

ten word tuesday.
and i've already been drunk since 3.

You left
like a bullet
through the back of
a suicidals skull.
there's no exit
wound.
sometimes i wish
there was.

oh, I'm gonna put it all in this little box, and
god forbid i don't forget about it.
you know i won't spill it here, in the
broke lines, and curved shapes.
me, being the person i am,
with all my faults and falls, don't want you to see it.
every
word
pause
and every
syllable will hide me.

I am in orbit.
Pulled in,
yet falling away.
Constantly.

even the way you type,
knocks me the **** out.

I am a question,
not because of my punctuation,
but because of my need
to be answered.

i
healed
them
for you,
baby,
and now
you're gone.

how soon is too soon,
when can he see what I've done
to my pale, frail, thighs?

You pointed a finger and it
went right between my ribs,
through my gut,
and cracked my spine on the way out.
I'll tell you something about blame, baby,
if you dish it out, you gotta be able to take it.
If I'm on my way down, you're in the passenger seat.
You'll never be able to cut me out of you,
we're both the cancer the other has,
I've accepted it and learned to live with the sickness.
Your turn.
You wanna point fingers, darling, do you?
Cause my tongue is loaded like a gun,
and I have a couple things to say.
You opened the door, and I'm sorry it slammed your ***
on the way out.
You have no claim on my stakes.
And I think it's time for you to go.
My cancer.
My sleeping sickness.
My static lullaby.

I feel the need to use the word broken again.
Because I hope he breaks me
like a stallion,
but I don't think he could love me
when I'm broken in.

I have no poetry left, save two words.
Hold me.