kiss my lips instead of the cigarette bud
                                                                      nestled between your fingers
let me be your nicotine
i’ll be your new addiction

hold me close instead of the drink
                                                             splashing in your cup
let me be your warmth
i’ll be your new addiction

speak to me instead of the ****
                                                         buried in your sock drawer
let me be your calm
i’ll be your new addiction

cry to me instead of the ativan
                                                        in the cupboard behind the towels
let me be your shoulder
i’ll be your new addiction

but, if the drugs still must meet your throat
                                                                      know i'm not going anywhere

let me try this one more time

                                                     i forgive you

for the bright colors you muted to pastels
for the rose thorns creating an unwanted invulnerability
for the forever creases on my once rippleless skin
my neck
my arms
my stomach
my hands
for the rusted barbed wire isolating my heart

they tell me I have your eyes
                    but, my worst fear is becoming you

a toast!

here’s to the ones reading this poem on new years

drinking wine out of coffee mugs instead of champagne out of wine glasses

may we all dream of a better day, and write as if it is now

5
4
3
2
...

isn't it such a shame when we tie people to objects

it was my favorite shirt

i buried it in the back of my closet
i never wore it again
today i picked it up
it all came back

you came back

i want you to go away
but i hung you back up
along with my dignity and pride

and told myself i'd wear it one day

that day will never come

and if right now, the world stopped moving

                                                         ­      who would you be thinking about

pity me

i have never felt so lonesome in a crowded room
we all know you didn't come here to see me
pity
pity
pity
is the only reason you glance my way

the girl with the difficult past
sits
alone
what a stereotype

stop pretending you mean it
and that
you
care
what a stereotype

you only want to talk to me
so you can be the one to push back the curtain
and
finally
reveal the wizard

such a shame
that i'm a ******* goddess