I spilled some blood on the bathroom floor, mama,
But I swear it was an accident.
See, my hand slipped across porcelain, mama;
My skin tore like satin.

The paint flowed like a river then, mama,
And colored me a crimson sunset.
Oh, but it made such a mess, mama,
And I know messes make you upset.

So close your eyes, mama,
'Cause you're weeping red and the tears might stain.
Red for your lost love and red for scarlet fire,
and red for the young rose cut from the briar.

Maybe now I could be poetry, mama
The type you wrote about in your younger days.
Golden sun swallowed in carmine, mama
With its last rays dying in a blaze.

We call it Good
Victory in being vanquished
Daylight in darkness
Bearing a cross

Triumph in a tomb
Three days
And death is doomed
Passing like a night
To laughing day

my dad loves me when i go to the gym

says i need to get skinnier

gets me weight loss vitamins

he doesn't understand

i try to be understanding of his lack of understanding

instead i stop eating and say it is the gym

i see him proud when i lose weight

i only see myself getting fatter

What we had was legit,
you were not.

My fingers used to
always smell of her,
her scent would linger
on my clothes for days

Now that she has left,
my fingers reek of cigarettes,
and my clothes remain unwashed

All I want is for my skin to
absorb her scent once again

But this is not a poem,
and she has changed her perfume