is crooning bird with
beehive nest built from soul
is sixty five years inside body of young girl
loves jazz and destructive boy
looks at him the way her voice does microphone
eyes are drawn black like cat's and she
sings the way a tail curls along wood floor
graceful  effortless  confident

shaina maidel with
a gap between her two front bent teeth
echoed laugh and studded diamond above her lip
jewish girl who wears
star of David around her neck belts
songs she writes with scratching fingers against
ink covered arms
pretty girl loves ****** and crack pipe and liquor
has a crooked mouth but hums melodies
smooth as the heart is aching

pink ballet slippers stain red
from ****** between toes
bulimia makes a home in her habits
empties stomach after every meal
makes more room for wine and ***** and whisky with coke
stumbles across a stage she does not belong to while
the audience boos and mocks while
the paparazzi stalks and preys and while
the media criticizes and
a world that doesn't quite understand does the same

we watch her disaster like
a car accident
unable to stop staring at the damage
we watch her downfall like
an avalanche in another city
it isn't ours so we do nothing to save it

this disappearing act is not magic but
a side effect of fame unwanted
dad doesn't understand that skin and
bones is foreshadow of death
says, baby, smile for the camera
baby, just do what you're supposed to
baby, just finish the tour
**** every last ounce out of her like
the wringing of a towel
it is an easy thing for a girl to become
invisible when she wants to
enough

crooning bird falls from tree and
we watch with hands at our side
bodies tilted in confusion
what a shame, we say
there is depth but it is hiding under addiction
all we see is girl destroying herself under
the fluorescents we placed above her
what a waste, we say, shaking heads
we do nothing in response

my love,
you tore boundaries with your swollen hands
they said your honest was too loud
hair too big
voice too bold
they picked with curious fingers and
gap-tooth jew girl with
the audacity to break silence
ended up breaking too

shaina maidel with
a space between her two front bent teeth
echoed laugh and studded diamond above her lip
jewish girl who could never be a star became just that
burned into supernova
graceful  effortless  confident in her
descent back to
black

You say you hate Los Angeles,
the city but mostly people there and
I can't help but wonder how
you managed to meet everyone
in the entire county,
a couple million or so,
from the few trips you took out here

But I think the problem isn't that
you hate Los Angeles
I think the problem is
you love me too much
at least I'll tell myself that when
I'm laying in bed with open eyes
wondering why you aren't here

I offer you planes, plans, my wallet
I say I'll pay, just for two days and
you say no without hesitation
I say I have a life and
I want you to see it and
you say you have no interest

Well,
if you have no interest then
why are you calling me?
why waste time talking over
nothing?
what is it that you are so
aftaid of?

You say we'll fight and
I know it's true although
it's not suffice to say
it's all we'd do
I say what about the making up that
comes after it all,
isn't that worth it
after all?

I can't have you in
my life if you're not here
this is something I know
I reach for arms that aren't there and
It's a bad habit I'm getting used to
I don't want to go back to
my old life
I want you to be in my new

but you hate Los Angeles and
school and everything in
life is too hard for you
you're mad I have opinions and
you never listen to them anyway
so you can stay
in the heat that will eventually
become cold
and I'll leave you alone because
that's what you want

I know it isn't
but I don't want to go back to
my old life
so I guess all there is to do
is to just find someone
new

today I did not think about him
It is the first time in an entire year that I haven't
I don't realize this until tomorrow
but it is an accomplishment nonetheless

today I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I didn't see his shadow in my rear view mirror
It is the first time during a commute where I don't feel the overwhelming urge to pull over
often the speed of the traffic mixed with the acceleration of my thoughts guides me to the side of the road
anxiety blowing loudly through the vents into my open mouth until I am too tired to focus-
today is the first time that didn't happen

last week I googled "therapists near me"
I settled on a woman with a nice smile and a specialty for trauma
This is the first time I find myself familiar with that word
almost comfortable like a distant family member I am just now recognizing
trauma is something with one definition but too many faces
for the past eight months I have been wearing his

on monday I spend an hour in the office of a stranger
she asks me why I'm here and I respond with I don't know but
my answer is as dishonest as my avoidance is expanding
she asks me how I am and I almost forget that I didn't come all this way to say fine
for a moment I almost forget that I am not.

I tell her about him without trying
I don't say his name
or the details I remember with more clarity each day that goes by
she says memories are really only what we remember each time we remember them
I think it's funny how I remember more every time I do
how sometimes laying in bed becomes catalyst to chest pain
I can still feel him kneeling on top of mine
pressing body into cracked ribs into spit on my neck
I can hear his humming of a song they play too often on the radio
there is no trigger warning for the reminders life has to offer
I find them everywhere without trying

she understands as much as I want her to
she says it's really about power
I say I know
she asks if I feel like I lost some kind of control
I say yes
I don't tell her that I have spent countless hours trying to find it
in bodies that aren't my own
digging nails into muscle and mattress trying to pull out some semblance of who I used to be
For too long I have covered up with a bandage
I am just now ripping it off for the first time
this pain is a sort of cleansing
I took three showers after he left but it is only today that I feel his remnants washed off my skin
I can't help but wonder if this is what Pinocchio felt the first time he was honest with his demons

today I did not think about him
yesterday I did not think about him
the day before I only thought about myself and pizza and myself again
there is very real possibility that my mind could figure out a way to bring back the unwanted
that tomorrow could be another way to remember
but today I didn't
I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I made it home without incident
not perfect,
but it is an accomplishment
nonetheless

"you didn't dry yourself off very well,"
you tell me while running a towel over my back
I am bare and vulnerable but
I do not care at all

we are post-shower standing on bathroom floor
bodies making puddles between cracks in white tile
laughing as we watch our reflections
dance in routine

my hair is curling and yesterday's mascara is crawling its way down my cheeks
I look more wet dog coming home drenched after thunderstorm than I do human but
I do not care at all

you wrap the fabric around the parts I didn't get on purpose
I keep my raw, the usually covered skin out in the open
I'm thinking about all the ways I can make you stay and
this is just one of them

there are just some things
you don't forget.

the time you get stitches on your chin when
you are four and the amount is double that
a result of your careless brother sitting your back and
your face meeting the ground with too much force
you aren't afraid though
you lay quiet as a doctor sews you back to one piece
this is bravery at its finest

the boy with the angry voice and heavy hands
teaches you to cower

the first panic attack with the salted swelling of your breath, the invisible hands wringing your neck into a knot you cannot untie,
the drenched palms and the pinching of your skin to bring you back down to earth
you think you are dying,
you aren't
you wonder if this will happen again,
it will

the dark of your uncle's funeral
your family's tears compiling next to the plate of poppyseed bagels that nobody eats
there is a silence that everybody seems to avoid and the sound of your unexplainable innapropriate laughter accompanying grief

your first kiss in someone's back bedroom and your body turning on vibrate mode
ringing with excitement, a smile numb from it's inability to escape

making out on the top of the movie theatre stairs at the mall on Fridays

the time you sneak out to meet up with older boys, the thrill coming from the risk
you trade tongues at 1 am and make it back in bed before mom and dad notice

the blacked out memory of your first time, in between his cartoon printed childhood sheets
you are fifteen and the **** and alcohol in your system make it harder to remember clearly
it is less of an event and more just a blurry moment

the nights with cough medicine and a handful of crushed pills up your nose and how it easily could have been too much

the halloween party with the dimmed lights and the red cups
the hammock in the back and the black basement couch and
her wrists the week after everyone found out what had happened on it
the word **** tied on to the back of her jeans for the rest of high school along with her self-destruction

the kid who threw himself in front of the train we all took to get to the city

the quiet in the school hallways the week after the drive-by

swallowing the word cancer and feeling every wall of your stomach turn ash

watching your father lose his hair like little pieces of the future

cursing out your chemistry teacher 6th period and being sent to the principals office
then loudly cracking your knuckles during saturday detention

eating ice cream in Haley's bed after finding out he cheated on her
telling her it will be okay and believing it

laying in bed for three days straight and ignoring any words of reassurance
depression settling comfortably inside your bone marrow

the comfort in his eyes and a sense of understanding nobody else had

your purple bedroom walls and
your purple bedding and
your purple curtains and
the pile of innocence disguised as stuffed animals sitting in
the corner of your room

every book you've ever loved

every song that's made your heart lunge

every human you ever thought of as you were falling asleep

every night you spent awake counting

every day you wasted spent waiting

every time you thought you wouldn't make it

every time you did.