I have a tattoo of Oregon on the back of my neck
so when your attachment issue
physically manifests itself on my bed
and you flip me over
so you can "hit it from the back"
you'll see the sharp contrast
of the black outline against my skin
I hope it reminds you
that I have a home
a mother, a brother, and two dogs
that are more excited about me than you are
despite the height difference
I need you to know that I am in control
that you are a pawn in my game of recklessness
and if I was closer to the edge (my edge)
I would stop reading Descartes on Mondays
I would stop forgetting my name on Saturdays
I would take out the last 15 dollars
and 75 cents on my debit card
to buy a one-way ticket to the city
but until then
I will try to fill the abnormally large abyss inside of me
with your average-sized ****
while wondering, if tomorrow
I will be able to distinguish the hangover
from the self pity
(perhaps I'll get out of bed before one)

I am often overwhelmed by how forgettable I am
or maybe underwhelmed
would be more accurate
my parents told me that I will be number one
to someone someday
but it’s hard to believe
when you’re not even number one
to your parents
like the moon with its uneventful craters
I eclipse the sun (only for a bit)
A nuisance, nothing more
than a quick shadow
until the sun gains back its glory
always the bridesmaid, never the bride
I watch as everyone else walks down the aisle
and marries intelligence, beauty, success
while Bacardi attempts to numb the reality
that I will always miss the bouquet
but I’ve only been to one wedding
and six funerals
which says more about me
than the deceased
I’d like to think that black is my color
he used to tell me I looked **** in my midnight dress
though no one tells me I look **** anymore

the best **** I ever had forgot my name
as I forgot his touch
and the awkward silences that persisted
when we weren’t intertwined
I think this entire season forgot about me
my home, my green oasis has moved forward
while I am trapped in a 23 degree loop
that no winter coat can thaw
maybe I don’t have a strong enough heart
for the unwelcoming streets of New York
because the bare trees cast evil shadows
like some horrible acid trip that lasts all winter

packed house
so many faces
your's didn’t stand out
but your hands did
as they found their way into my pants

please don’t look at me like that
I know what you’re thinking
I am quite aware of my appeal
because I’m not pretty but I’m pretty enough
and I’m not skinny but I’m skinny enough
and I’m not innocent
but I’m vulnerable
enough

you said you saw it in my eyes
that I’m really good at fake smiles
and ringing laughter
however this green glass screamed sadness
sadness which you ignored
as you helped me up when I fell over (drunk)

you left and I threw up in my trashcan
which is okay because
the boys that ask to stay scare me more
than the ones who don’t

did I mention
this is my least favorite time of the night?
and no one really knows
that everything festers at 3:37am
it’s not the alcohol that makes my head spin
(I can do that on my own)

while I’ve never been lost in the light
I have drowned in the darkness
so I try to sob softly enough
that the thin walls won’t give me away

my friend told me to deep breathe
in situations like this
but my breath only reminds me of yours
hot and sticky on my naked neck

so I shove the melatonin down my throat
because my Xanax prescription hasn’t arrived yet
and I congratulate myself on not doing coke tonight
one small step at a time right?

they say everyone has a personal hell on earth
will you laugh if I tell you mine is a bathroom
because the peeling white wall and concrete floor
close in and whisper “more more more more”
as I shove a plastic spoon down my throat
salad, carrots and humus, cheerios
unplanned nibbles and a full stomach
send me down the stairs into the quiet empty room
where the window is blurred
just like my eyes
as they fill while I empty
“these are the depths”
I tell myself
this is the place where I find new lows
and just when I think I finally reached rock bottom
the toilet responds with a shovel
“keep digging”
an empty stomach and dead eyes
smiling but only my mouth muscles twitch
an odd sensation, an odd response to the compliment
“you’ve lost weight!”
I am more naked in this prison
than I ever am undressed with nameless boys and forgotten faces
as *** replaces carbs
and more “friends” like my photos on facebook
because I never have to sleep alone
but one minute in my Siberia feels like lifetimes of solitude
that no gently touch
or quick ****
can ever compensate for
where is the key that lets me out?
I’ve searched my esophagus but it only leaves me with ****** noses
it must be somewhere else inside of me
unrelated to the number on the back of my jeans
for I feel it in me
something is telling me to stop
it’s like a lump of innate love
that shakes its head every time I bend over
the demons (my demons) are drowning my mom’s voice
“I pray it gets better” she cries over the phone
but your rosary beads are choking me
because there is no God in this incandescent purgatory
but sometimes
I see myself reflected in the shallow water
which reminds me that I am more
than what I contribute to the sewer system
I leave the bathroom still searching for the light
at the far, far end of the tunnel