I'm five years old.
It's my first day of school.
Nobody likes me.  They pretend I don't exist,
but that's okay, because
Mommy knows best.

Now I'm seven years old.
New school, new people.
Nobody likes me.  They pretend I don't exist,
but that's okay, because
Mommy knows best.

Now I'm eleven years old.
My voice is killed by Mrs. Dysphoria.
Nobody likes me.  They pretend I don't exist,
but that's okay, because
Mommy knows best.

Now I'm fourteen years old.
I'm drunk, cutting, and hearing things.
Nobody likes me.  They pretend I don't exist,
but that's okay, because
Mommy knows best.

Now I'm eighteen years old.
They're burying me.
Everyone loves me.  They're my best friend,
but it's funny, because
Mommy knew best.

Snowy white and blue,
Mountains behind crow alone,
  .  .  .  Winter still appears.

Sweetbitter kiss caressed
lips. esophagus. stomach. chest.

inaccessible 'till death.
untouchable--so close to the chest.

unable to put out fires, burns
will have to rest
where they lie smoldering, watching
eyes walk bye.

I close my I.

Carry me, now--not home
not to neverland
not over the rainbow

Just carry me softly in sweet-smelling acidic things.
--a little corrosion does a girl a world of good--
sing me songs, wolf-in-sheeps-clothes, that my mother used to

and bring me gifts on angel-dusted wings,
nothingness never before made greater feeling.

Our lives themselves strived for meaning while we strived for the reason for being
the way the great cold faceless hands created
our unyielding . . . softness
separate from and not unlike a feather
equal both in whimsical light, lack of value, disease and helplessness
great beauty, plainness, and utter insignificance

Us little things are great only to those with great imagination--
light in the clouds,
break in your fever
blip on your radar
the fast one before the flatline always seems so much shorter than it should. Shorter than they said it would.

I relax
sweet relief
sweet goodnight

we'll wake up and try this one more time.
we won't get it right-- you can't
get it right

give me this bip, this sleep, this chance.

*******, we'll still try--
to get it right sometime.

Lit it on the stove
Went outside and smoked it whole
As the black smoke caressed her lungs
The rat poison and tar instead of oxygen
She breathed deeply
Sitting on her porch serenely
Thinking of how peaceful one inhale made her feel
And the exhales too, feeling so real
As the black smoke stung the back of her throat
There is much more to life she hoped
Than sitting on your porch
Slowly killing yourself
With things that go unseen

I told you to Lend me your lips
and I'll teach you what love is, I said
I'll let my eyes become your moon
if you'll lend me your collarbones
so I can use them to build a bridge
to the mountains inside my heartstrings

Love, I wrote you an anthem
for all the nights you made my knees sing
and I swore on every dying man's last breath
that I would never change the tune of that song
I was a fool for letting you love me
I knew I would break you in
You told me in life we can't always win
but I thought we were
Because winning was found in the mornings
when your skin looked like feathers under lamplight
and nights when your eyes glistened from that red wine
and I swore I would never let you drink it with anyone else

I told you I couldn't catch a break
and you told me life wasn't a baseball game
I don't have to catch anything
but oh did I ever want to catch you like a firefly
in my glass heart
The day you left I whispered that I would never stop writing you poems
you were always giving me inspiration
You still are

Yesterday I breathed a ghost out of my lungs
and I swore the cigarette smoke could fill up the sky
I thought maybe you'd see my signal fire
telling you it's time to come home
Telling you it's time to listen
time to listen for the last night
When you pressed your cheek against mine
and told me not to call
and I thought the words were poison dripping from your mouth
I was screaming but nothing was coming out
and I knew I couldn't live another day the same ever again

Because now that you're gone
my lipstick can't even stick right
and my sonnets are words numbed by hopelessness
and this poem is a poem I never wanted to write
You were right here standing over my shoulder
just a few weeks back
I have no idea where I lost track of the time
but it's gone
just like you

When you kissed my lips
It flew through my entire body
Like a drug
And I was so high
Off of your touch
As your hands wrapped themselves around my waist
I succumbed to your love
Up and down they coasted along my legs
Soft as a feather
Gentle as beautiful weather
And when you stopped to breathe
You whispered like the wind in my hair
I Love You