that's how you convinced me to jump in the sack with you.



those three words.


"it's not just *******"

it's pure uncensored emotion


what emotion?


which one?


because it certainly wasn't love
- you never loved me, ever.


it definitely wasn't happiness
-you never made me happy


for sure wasn't excitement
-you never got excited about anything important




so what was it?


anger?
******* me to get revenge
who?

Your mother?

Your ex?




yourself?





maybe it was
heartbreak

******* me
to feel numb
so it doesn't hurt as bad








                                                                  maybe it was boredom.



                                  Yep,





                                                                i think that was it

These poems are all about girls like me
the type of girl
that makes you think you're the one, the absolute one
covering your weathered face with kisses
telling you
-you can stay as long as you like.

girls like me


we ******* over
in the end.

we begin by letting you fall for us
when we're not interested.

then we become a little bit attached
to you
enough that we feel guilty
when we leave you

and we're weak
without you
so we beg for forgiveness

and we keep you hanging around

until we find someone
good enough
to replace you.


if that isn't the most ****** up thing i've ever heard

blood drips drips drips into the sink

flows between my fingers


my forehead
throbbing

dripping sweat

hair plastered to my cheeks
and eyelids



then, in a streak of insanity

i settle deep into the floor
and pull the shower curtains off the rod,
over my head



falling deep
into the floor
past the tiles

past the pipes
past the old couple living in the apartment below mine

and they hold each other
and i watch


as he tries to put it in her

he can't.

they're both too squishy
and wrinkly

and tired

(he collapses on top,
rolls off of her

her ****
sagging towards her arms
******* with a diameter of my balled up fists
she sighs at him and gives a yellow toothed smile)




i want to feel something hard
and slippery
against my skin

i want to get ****** up

                                           i'll never forget
                                 that blood stained towel
                                      we placed under my hips

                                           to stop the blood
                                                           ­                    from staining the bedsheets.


                                              just like the one

balled up under my head
on the bathroom floor



eyes closed

you didn't have to try so hard

to convince me
that you loved me.



your poems were enough



your eyes were enough.

i found a letter that i wrote to you
stuck in the case of my favorite cd.

signed

i love you,
          -michelle

when i saw those words
i thought about
                 standing in your driveway
shaking as you held me
               we were fixing the mistakes we'd made
And I thought about you pushing me
                                    in that shopping cart
hair in my face and laughter in my mouth

And I keep going back to the
time we slept on the floor
the snow falling heavy like blankets outside
                       your neck was a magnet for my lips
                       my fingers were glued in between yours
                       my eyes could not blink for looking at you



When i found the letter i wrote to you
signed

i love you,
          -michelle

at the bottom

I tore it into a thousand minuscule pieces

my tears inking my own ****** words
                into my fingertips