I can't help but fall.
deeper,
            deeper,
                        deeper.
These little blue and white pills pull me so far down.
Into darkness.

After two, I feel my once tense muscles begin to relax.

Three more and my eyelids start to get heavy.

Four more, my mind eases; thoughts drain themselves away.

Five more, and consciousness escapes me.

A sea of medicated sleep engulfs me.
I float away, far deeper than my sober being could wallow.

Here, I can't hear the voices. Inside, or out.

No one to remind me what a disappointment I am.
No mirror to look into and think about how disgusting the thing is, staring back at me.
No overwhelming thoughts to motivate a razor across my body.
Nothing.
No one.
Just the comforting silence of sweet dreamless sleep.

My heart beats fast
                                                                                 When I stand still
Skin that feels the wind rush past--
                                                                              Wind that isn't there.
I hear the roaring crowd
                                                                             Of nobody. I'm alone.
Bright lights, blink fast
                                                                                  In a dark room.

Screaming in your head
Alive while being dead.

Can
                                                You
               Read
                                                                                        My
                                 Racing
         Thoughts?
                                                                  They
                                             Whisper
                                                                                                        In
           The
                                                 Beating
                                                                                    Heart
                        Of
                                                                                                                        Night.


                                                                                                                                        Can you hear me now?
                                                                                                                                         I'm calling out for you.
                                                                                                                                                                       In the
                                                                                                                                                      Ever darkening
                                                                                                                                                                         Day.

Through the twigs and savory green,
dry yellow sun bits. A wet vanilla perfume
lingering in sweat droplets, staining
that white tank-top too busy being
baked in, dead grass fastened to your
thighs a bit like tassels. I am sometimes
positive that you grew from the thirsty
dirt like a

cactus

I fell in step with a beautiful boy on an undefined path in the woods
Eyes of melted caramel, lips of bitten cherries
A face of dazzlingly white sun rays

His fair composition had caught my eye
Several grown oak trees away
An intensity of gamma rays and morning light
mixed in with a dash of candlelight

As I neared, I became drunk on his sweet fragrance
Of burnt wood and hot chocolate
and lying outside in the midst of a spring day
Tender breezes that smell of rain and cold earth

This boy, how softly he stepped, catalyzed a desire deep within
A compelling to touch, maybe taste his beauty
My white hand reached out, an extension of billowing feathers
With risk, attempted a gentle, gossamer graze on his back
and my face, a blush burning, consumed my whiteness

But this boy, so beautiful, had a bitter back
And soon my white feathers frosted
Ice caked in between my limbs 
Spread with an intensity like wildfire
And my nimble body no longer white
So cold, so heavy, I fell

I awoke to screaming

Only it wasn't my own
This time, it appeared
Someone had invaded my home
I got up quickly

I reached for my bat
But knew that if anything would help
It probably wouldn't have been that
But still, quietly I crept down the stairwell

In the kitchen stood a man
Or what appeared to be
He gazed at me and raised his hand
One finger to his lips, "Shhh"

So I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth
To speak but he shushed me louder
This time and lowered himself into a crouch
And that's when I saw what he had done

Below his massive, crouched down frame
Was a shattered bottle of milk
He stared at it solemnly, knowing he was to blame
Then he looked back up at me

"Please don't tell my mother."
A single tear rolled down his big face
"She loves me like no other."
The tears were streaming now

I didn't know what to say
Here was a hulking man, in my kitchen
I suddenly felt I could no longer stay
If I go back up stairs will he leave? Or **** me in my sleep?

I backed up a little and said
"If you just go now,
I'll just be getting back to bed."
He smiled, his tears glinting off moonlight

"Thank you! But please! Turn around."
And for some reason I did
When I turned back, he was nowhere to be found
The milk was cleaned too, glass and all

I scratched my head in disbelief
I was still groggy from sleep
Anyone ever heard of a break, weep and clean?
I'd think not
I'd like to think not

My teeth
Strolling along the beach of your lower lip
Tongues
Swimming in saliva waves,
I swim to you
Like Baywatch
Watching you
Is like announcing a severe weather alert
Urgently advising to take shelter
There's a storm on the horizon.
Clouds accumulating in your eyes
And
Precipitation down pouring between my thighs

those eyes

When clouds collide
The thunder transforms me.
Boom
Boom
Boom
My rib cage shatters.
Claws secured around your head
Fingers knotted in your dreads
Dragging you down, down
I want you to drown
Drown
I want you to struggle
To scream out in vain-
Your lips caress each syllable of my name
Like lightening.
Like lightening
The sunshine in your smile reminds me that
Naturally, the skys are blue
Meteorology eyes
Do you wonder too,
If the forecast will always be sunny?

**** poor, dying for a dream,
or a drink, one more cigarette,
the landlord comes around, asking for rent
and the money is gone, it was never there,
so you smile and bat your eyes,
one more week, I promise

soon he'll be at your throat
with eviction notices that scream
louder than stereotypes of poverty
louder than your baby's growling stomach
louder than all of your meticulous schemes.
are you uncomfortable yet?
I've barely scratched the surface.

the stereotype that you fell into
doesn't suit you, single mother
wiping off tables and smiling your hardest
to make tips, bend a little further,
hike up your skirt, show some leg
some ***, let them see your ****,
generous patrons love that ****.

you go home and scream into empty spaces
and curl into cold corners thinking of
Bukowski in cockroach rooms
eating candy bars to survive
and dream of an end to a means.
you play some Tchaikovsky
and hold your own flesh and blood
close enough that they can't leave you,
drink White Russians until your hands melt
and write **** that nobody wants to read
about your struggles, knowing that
you will be gifted with rejection letters
and apologies.

**** poor, it is a way to live
but if you prefer sanity, not one
that I would suggest.
it will devour you
destroy you, upend your hopes
and shatter your dreams.
god will not help you,
nor the state or the politicians,
but if you make it out alive
you could be stronger than
diamonds, harder even than
your own resolve.