i'd avoid the sunrise,
it reminds me of you
turn off my eyes around two
stay closed, stay closed
stitched them shut with regret
(out of Elmer's, out of gas money)
did spend his twenty dollars-
compensating for more
than a broken ******
forgot about the plan b
and stuck with plan a
high alone off cheap ****
bought from a kid who's got
a house in the hamptons
i guess we're all
living less than what
the college brochure says
or maybe more,
flip the campus map over
find us alone in our beds
fitting one, two on the mattress
not two, not both
one, two
find us alone
find us alone together
stay closed, stay closed
in the morning sink to the floor
up, shower, socialize, shrivel
to the friends who promised you an in
when you only wanted an out

I think I was thirteen
when I shipped myself out
to the sea of solitude
since then I've tried rowing
back to shore but
currents of discontent
are hard to fight
inevitably I gave in
to the candy-coated
pills and powders
and the minty fresh breath
of men lurking in corners
almost as sweet as sanity
eventually I overdosed on emotions
but I was only trying
to rid myself of feeling
since I was never good
at walking on the tightrope
between wanting and reality
at this point I don't know
who to apologize to
since Hallmark doesn't have cards
for sincere self loathing

it's just that
some days it's really hard
to keep your voice even
when your mother asks
if you're slipping

I once found solace
in your arms
before everything changed

I remember bodies more than faces
which in his case was beneficial
I liked him because he let me down
even more than I let down myself
and in some demented way
it was comforting
to have a relationship based
on mutual self disrespect
If you're both being used
can you really use each other?
you wanted to cuddle,
I wanted to watch you shower
you liked the smell of my hair,
I liked the roughness of your palms
alone together; together alone
but I'm not sure you noticed
that the most meaningful way
in which we communicated
was through clicks of our teeth
and the rustle of sheets

no, I wasn't always like this
I used to cry about the ozone layer
now excess calories upset me
more than excess carbon emissions
these days I spend half my life
inside parentheses
the other half with a therapist
she says I see too many things to be happy
but it's hard to shut your eyes
when clothes pins made of neurosis
keep them open until four in the morning
so I've learned to sleep with an eye mask
and a blanket of NyQuil
because there isn't a pill
for severe self awareness

stop asking my major
I'm pretty sure
there isn't an academic sequence
for self destruction
since I can't focus on genome sequences
I pretend my life is a trailer
for a low-budget film festival drama
and I come up with names for it
when I'm sitting alone in the library
"***, Drugs, and Radiohead"
"Hennessy and Coke-Zero"
or my personal favorite
"When Everyone Likes You (But You)"
I wonder if anyone will clap at the end

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

we walk in pairs
holding the sides of strangers
to combat our inner wars
with the company
of flattering eyes
cheap drugs
and cheaper wine
aid our quest
to heal the inner aches
caused by the lonely city
for a moment
he holds me and I wonder
if this is how it should feel
though this is when his skeletons
are tucked in the closet
and I ate my secrets for dessert
so we crash into each other
at midnight
but the tide draws in at dawn
the wreckage of a storm
leaves me more lost
than driftwood
because we all know what it's like
to wake up, eyes open
in an empty bed
and realize, all at once
the goddess of insecurities
must reign over us all

the familiar sting
fills my nose
initiates the numbness
at ease, at ease
to give in is to lose
the remainder of my innocence
but am I so innocent
to have anything left to lose
weakness comes
in all shapes
and sizes
but invisibility only comes
in one shade
and there is only one door
to escape out of
so I write on my hand:
this is redemption
in permanent ink
so when I wake up tomorrow
groggy from the lines
cut on my biology textbook
I will remember
natural light only comes in
if the shades are pulled up
and the window is open

gleaming white teeth
whisper such simple lies
that weave such complex emotions
until the blanket of insecurities we share
separates us from reality
instead we sit by a fire
reading from a storybook
telling us of tales
that are not our own
and as we sip tea that burns
the roofs of our guilty mouths
while we both wish we could change
and gain some tragic
but beautiful sense
of intimacy
that has so long evaded
the tips of our grasping fingers

they tell us not to be defined
by our bodies
yet my innocence is tied
to my *****'s status
my appeal tied
to the circumference of my thighs
though beauty may come
in all shapes and sizes
it is only recognized
as the number on the tag
of that little black dress
you match with heels
that cut into your ankles
and lead to stares
that cut into your confidence
"compliments" rain down
and you're not given an umbrella
or at least a ******* raincoat
so you end up drowning, sopping
wet with your sexuality
your ability play down your education
and play up your physical attributes
so my worth is tied
to how much i can disappear
my careful use of measuring cups
reading labels like books
but let me tell you,
there is nothing sensous about
shoving a spoon down your throat
and salads may be ****
but i can't have *** with you
when my blood sugar is this low
while you admire
my "womanly" curves
i am haunted by what it took
to get my stomach to lay flat
so **** the desire for delicate wrists
these expectations are too heavy to carry
in these ******* coach purses

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)

this isn't love, I remind myself
as his fingers trace my clavicle
and follow the curve of my spine
maybe it's love's distant cousin
since it still spikes my heartbeat
minus the roses, the forehead kisses
the complications
like a strong dose of physical attraction
but when I wake up in the morning
I don't have to feel anything
the butterflies in my stomach
wither as the sun rises
their fleeting presence
makes my insides growl
I worry he'll hear as he leans in
and kisses me on the lips
before he leaves
quick and gentle
again I remind myself, this isn't love

it's Sunday morning
which means at nine
I'll have an existential crisis
in a stranger's bed
but the most intimate
part of the morning
is when I call my father
on the walk home
in hysterics I tell him
my innocence meter ran out
and instead of tickets
on my windshield
I'm left with ***** memories
that clog the drain
I ask for a plunger
since no shower will rid me
of the awareness
that I find validation
in making eyes roll
into the back of heads

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

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?

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

we walk on the beach
as I reset myself
to your clock
I asked if you had
enough room for me
in your eyes
you responded
with a smile
"always"
and those two syllables
seem to stretch
longer than the ocean
on that foggy horizon
and though I can't count
the grains of sand
than run through our toes
on this vacant beach
I don't need a lighthouse
to find my way
into your heart
you whisper "let me in"
but you're already closer
than ever before
hands laced
let us use the waves
as blankets
let me make a home
in your sweatshirt and stubble
let me find refuge
in your burning eyes
and let us walk forever
on this infinite stretch
of bittersweet heaven

backpack of guilt
heavy reminder
the unforgiving weight
of myself

he calls me a budding alcoholic
a rose drowning in
too many rain drops
which is, perhaps, the sweetest
verbal shake-of-the-head
that I have ever received
now he starts talking
about confidence issues
and my ears turn inwards
the inadequacy that pumps
through my veins clots
as his syllables reach
the tip of his tongue
and slap my face
"it's because I care"
but he doesn't care
more than a pat on the head
when what I really need
is a little less honesty

I was raised by a practical man
who boiled love down
to a chemical equation
which is why my idea of tenderness
is so messy, broken
an expression
that could never be balanced
by the most careful scale

eventually I gave up on chemistry
and I tell you it's because
those rubber gloves
made my hands itch
when really,
I couldn't handle the lab
since I was already a specimen
being examined
under your microscope

the thing is, in school,
they taught me about
the reproductive system
and how to wash your eyes
if an experiment goes wrong
but no one ever told me
what to do when the human touch
looses its healing power
no teacher ever gave me an A
just for waking up in the morning
which is the hardest test
and I do it daily

you say my name
like you know me
more than
the crevices of my body
and the pitch of my voice

though you don't know
what makes my spine curve
or the thoughts
behind the endorphins
birthmarks, moles, scars
all easy to trace with your finger
but you can't kiss
deflated pride or loose morals

I play self destruction
like an olympic sport
except my gold medal
seeps into my bone marrow
but leaves no trace
on my weathered skin

so instead you say my name
unaware of your ignorance
unaware of my inner ghosts

we tripped up the stairs
when we were kids
not knowing it was a metaphor
for what was to come
together, we huddled over laughing
when we reached the top
since the stumbles
left bruises on our knees
but never on our souls
unlike the steps we climb now
that take us to floors
we never meant to go to
and though I have seen you fall
so many times, my brother
each time you rise
with a grace that triumphs
your exhausted eyelids and
burned brain, remnants of
the tabooed chemicals
we made pinky-promises
never to do
none of it touched
the sincerity behind
your crooked smile
the boy that walked me home from school
when our mom was too busy
is still in those baby brown eyes
that wave at me
even over the telephone
to be honest, my brother
you give me more hope
than any self-help book
through the struggle, sorrow, and Celexa
never surrendering
to the stairs of life
and just like children
you hold out your hand
to help me up
though my knees are too sore
my heart too battered
one day I will join you
on the second floor

you spend too much time
in your own head
that one of these days
you'll get locked in.
Draw the blinds of your eyes
shut the door of your mouth
stuck inside, alone
except for the demons
who hide in your mind's closet.
Your shelter transforms
and you are sentenced
to solitude
in a prison of thoughts.

I have never met love
but I have seen it from across the room
it's just that I was unable to extend my arm
long enough to shake its hand
instead I daydream about you raising your voice
because the indifference is so cold
and I need some anger to keep me warm
when I forget my mittens and my confidence in California

I clench my teeth so hard
that I've given myself
a permanent headache
always have an advil
in my back pocket
except I used to chase it
with a tall glass of him
because he was like rain
the kind of downpour
you'd go outside to feel
without an umbrella
opened up your mouth
and looked up to the sky
didn't you feel so alive?
as the water reached
every pore, even the ones
you never knew you had
(but now the rain is gone)
and this was before
we disconnected
my body from your soul
removed the morning dew
from the cold grass
traded evergreens for oaks
droplets for ice
only to realize
a new coast
was not a new life
so now, every time
the clouds form
I think of you
and your rain jacket
when everything feels so heavy,
I miss your light love
the way it trickled
down my face
as your hands trickled
down my spine
didn't you feel so alive?

shades drawn,
I tried to swim
in a sea of sheets
cursed by demons
with life-jackets
who would never drown-
and as I suffocate,
their chests continue to rise
they float, I sink.
Please float away from me,
this underwater magnet
of misery.
I am anchored in you,
Sending
Out
Sadness-
waiting to wash ashore.

entangled, entangled, entangled
we crash like opposite seas
desperate to aim our currents
towards each other,
if only for a moment.
My legs rest over yours
and I am glad I forgot
to cut my fingernails
as I trace your back
trying to imprint my presence
in some temporary, physical way.
I can see you eyeing me
digesting the surroundings-
the context of my heartbeat
all at once I realize
in a wave of melancholia
you like my body more than I do;
So I wonder
if you can sense
self consciousness in a stroke
or hear sadness in a sigh.
(It's later) right now, as I breathe
into your shirt that you left behind
taking in the back of your neck,
the door closing, the absence
all I seem to think about
is how someone can be
so gentle, yet so rough
all at the same time

finding solace through
destructive ease
because I have never
regulated my rhythms
to a song that suits my mind
so it feels like I'm dancing alone
in a silent room
perhaps it's because
I could never find the volume ***
on my own life

when I was seven
I dreamed of swimming
out into the exact middle
of the Pacific Ocean
the taste of saltwater
probably easier to stomach
than the liquor shots we need
just to be around each other
drowning under the pressure
of young adulthood
I swear I was only seven
when I realized
I was a perpetual listener
attracted to slow sounds
and the comfort of quiet
it was twelve years ago
I predicted that
someday the noises of the city
would flood my consciousness
and suffocate my spirit

middle of the night
woke to find you absent
in the permeating darkness
broken only by red embers
shadows of smoke
kept me company
because it was too hard
to stay sober
when the demons came out
from under the bed
and the brake lights
of passing cars
were reflected on
the naked walls

I began to like my body more
when it was joined to a stranger's
I am sorry Shakira but my hips do lie
they told me that self worth correlates
to the amount of goosebumps on my upper thigh
and the number of first names in my contacts
because last names are too hard to type
in the darkness after the door shuts

I feel I am sleeping too much
a ceaseless state of daze
trying to skip the
thrills of consciousness
instead I aim for
the innate ease found
in a resting heartbeat
I can never dream
but if I could
I'm sure I would dream
about the day
that I graduate from being
a place holder between sheets
to photo in a frame
next to the pillow
where we rest out heads