i. prodigal daughter

****** cough
great grandmother's
             hankerchief
   letters, no name,
      not mine
  
                              i ruin a lot
                              you can't see
                         red hands together
                            prayer. maybe.
                                   not me.

ii. menace

burning woman
settle in the wallpaper
your eyes are yellow
again: i cry while
you paint over me -
        this house is as haunted as me.

iii. flight of the wolves

her eyes
    slide into mine
until eventually
                 the moon takes me by
                            the hand
                 we are running
                  against ourselves
                  and bleeding stars
                               fading as nothing
                               but hungry dogs
                               into the night

iv. ancient light

you have never
wanted touch
like this  
                   a mysterious something
                   is in the air
                   someone else's sun
                   swallowed whole

      fire has his hand in my mouth
                   i am screaming.

v. town fair memory

my lover in a dream
finds me by the craft table
it's sun down
             tiptoes around  my adolescence
                  he knows he is not my love.  

i lay on the trembling blacktop
with my friends. the sky is pink
but not as warm as us, we can see
stars from here: we're not waking up
                 from today

                    his name
                        still
                    eludes me

i'm laying empty in your eyes
baby please make me smile
into the phone one more time before
i slip up again and you can't catch me

iloveyou
yourtouchmakesmefeelalive
imsorryiamdissociatingrightnow
butinee­dyoudontleaveme
pleaseholdmeuntilifeelbetter

dollar store tape
piece me to what
looks like me

**** me into the
honeymoon matress
we used too early
please i want to
feel

you don't love me anyways

i'm sorry i'm always
so scared

TAKE SOME MORE FROM ME
baby, unwrap pink lace kiss me
don't leave don't ******* touch her

lay in my bed
until i tell you
to move again
try loving your
self

show me where to put my
hands, i've done this before
but not like this: let me sink into
the mattress until there's nothing
left to hold

don't leave don't ******* touch her
reinact our first *** scene with
more eye contact, more touching,
more crying, more apologies

TAKE SOME MORE FROM ME
i dare you

don't touch her

my mother opens her chest
and tells me god put a gun
there for when he comes back,
i protest the right to carry
outside the city lines
even though i've been
hurt too:
her wine cabinet tastes like
retribution and hope,
her red 4 days old open seal
tastes like ******* ****
20 minutes later,
when it's just me, the dog,
and a lukewarm drink.
don't put ice in wine. i've
learned this.

you know, i don't even
pick up bibles when
i'm ****** up? i cry
into tarot cards that
are vague and lack
comfort and pages
and pages
and pages
of lackluster
fake sunshine

water to wine to water again

my dad's the alcoholic,
nice ******* try,
big guy,
you're not
even speaking-
i have a dissociative
disorder, *******,
try me when i'm
feeling less real
istic.

blind date
with my college
career, i ask them
what they plan on
doing with their
degree and i get
a shudder  and
an exorcism
all in one
breath:::
                 i'm trying my best.

i come from a city of sleeping
ghosts that do not remember
where they were born: i keep
raw honey in the attic of my
mother's mother's funeral
home so somehow they
will learn to be bittersweet -
i only need them when
i'm craving tea, i think i'll
die before learning to sleep
without flowers and sugar
pressed to the cave of my mouth
as a raven hiding from
man's shadow
and the
night.

oh, baby, i'm not suicidal anymore -
touch me with your hurt, taste me
with your fire tongue, **** me with
your sober inhibition, love me until
you can do nothing but stutter my name
as you come down from how happy you've
always wanted to be:

always another party,
you breathe in city lights
and stars until life
gives you something
i just can't ::
          confetti and
          bittersweet
          memory mold
          to a holy white
          in the gutter
           of my lungs.
           i can taste it
           when i
           breathe.

always another party
i'm inside
always

show me you love me
in a dream you can't
control, we collect crystals
and give each other tarot
readings - but i always
wonder what you are thinking,
laid out between judgement
and queens in my pink floral
bedsheets. not real, i'm
seeing it all the same.

your tongue
was all over
me
when i realized
i didn't want to
**** my friend:
but i'd never felt
your skin on mine
so closely, i felt
braindead, you
had been my
romantic interest
for two weeks
already
and there we were
******* in your bed,
so i asked you to
be with me
while i came
between small
breaths and moans
and you said yes

and then we
****** some
more, fell in
love a little  
more,
and i'd
never been
more thankful
of speaking.

today exists
in movie stills
i have only
ever been
a ghost
in my
own
skin

southern girl
lily petals,
you buy me
flowers
first paycheck
no more drugs
they smell like
warm bedsheets
hotel coffee
sun

when we ****
i see stars
on your
flat base white
ceiling, screaming
out to me:
i feel loved.

we're ***** disgusting
*** on the kitchen floor
we never wait
we don't want to wait
i don't think we've ever waited

i just want to love you
all over until pomegranate
seeds appear on my altar
each day

we fall asleep
snoring
holding hands
smiling

blood sample
in my baby
pink purse

i'm into potions,
into *** magic,
mix your soul
with mine

and let me
become
something

i want to wrap your
hand around my
ancient spine,
tell me i'm
selfless

make it about me,
baby, make my
skin boil
heart stop
sacrifice  :
    i just want to
    be happy

my lover comes from a town where
every image triggers the memory
of a memory : everything is new and
overgrown, even the trees. but it feels
as if he has been here forever.

the sky floats in my rearview
as a reflection against an old,
white dodge neon, sun settling
into the hollow hole in my
stomach
like
melted peach frozen yogurt.

last bit of sunlight sleeping somewhere
in my skin, i put my brights on halfway
down the highway, smiling into the
shadow of today (the shadow of him),
i can't help but love the way
his eyes smile before i
leave.

i roll my windows
all the way down
so it will feel like
i am flying
all over.

stop light red moon
i follow
where the sun sits
home into the
night

slow driving
i have time to think
take pictures of tree
-lines so i won't
disappear

our words trail across
the sky as airplane exhaust
fade before i blink
i still feel them
in my skin

i feel him waiting in
every forest
every second
every foot more of pavement
until i am home

and he is smiling as i drive away
**** any god, i pray he follows

my teeth
sink into
instant coffee
cautiously; this will
never be the same
unless you are here.

            i might pick up
            a cigarette and
            a bible in the same
            breath,
            i still love you
                 all the same.

being alone has
taught me that
i miss you even
when i don't,
i want everything to feel
                                        close again.

you are as soft as sunlight
as yellow as summer night:
hold onto this freedom.

cranberry strings
laced into bedsheets:
mother has only
just learned to sew,
and father breathes
slowly from a snowing
world.
     sleep is different.
     i lay with a solstice
     tongue pressed to
     the roof of my waiting
     mouth
     and
     wonder
     who else
     has been resting in
     place.

three hours pass
i am waiting for you
parked car in a pool of
yellow-longing light:
black cat treks across the
lot, i want you to be done,
want my coffee to be cool.

besides you i think
gas station coffee
is my long lost
love

crawl into bed
coffee stained sheets
i don't **** strangers
i don't bring tea to bed
not anymore
don't bring myself to bed
can't sleep in bed

****
suicide note
written to my
**** blog,
**** if i'm
not free,
i don't have
wet dreams
in the snow
anymore, i'm
a summer girl,
i'm dead and alive,
i sleep with the
cryptic ghosts
of my own
sadness.

laser surgery
private browsers
endless self doubt
regret
hurt
betrayal
facebook memories i don't remember
empty coffee mugs
heartache
pushing too far
a tea collection
goodwill dresses
inherited jewelry
a stranger's home
mismatched socks
silent heartbreak
drugs
no drugs
secret thoughts
of nothing

i let mint fester
in the front of my mouth as
a sleeping
beauty,
while hunger slips in t
                                           -he back of my
throat and i try to forget
            her

goodbyes and lost feelings
mix together. summer makes
fools of us all, but all i wanted
was for you to hold me. take me
by the hand.

i'll love you eternally, i guess.
my teeth grind together
in my sleep. bleeding gums
drag me by the heart to my
therapist's door and stare
until i let myself in.

pomegranate tea
you forget my name as you
introduce your mother
and wait for her to leave::
                                                  :: you make sure to steep the tea
                                                     before placing it delicately between
                                                     my two, small hands. there's no
                                                     innuendo, you can tell i am nervous,
                                                     but i want to change. so you lead me
                                                     to your bedroom and turn on music,
                                                     that i still can't hear.

the *** was okay,
i was happy that you were patient.

by the time we finished,
i had the taste of tea
still in my mouth,
nothing had
changed,
and i pondered
my lack of love
as i drove away.

kiss your
dead girl
hands,
exorcist-
bringer :: and
            ch
               ok
                  e       o n
               the         soot
            the              flames
           the                  terror
            coating
                           infinity-stained lips
                                                      :: ghosts
                                                           linger       in      the
                                                                             back
                                                                                  dr
                                                                                     op.

i found
that suburbian
love-seats
couldn’t hold
the kind of love
i was searching
for

and ***
between
crumbling
couch cushions
slowly became a
tedious night ritual:

mountain
ranges told
me from a
first-time-
glance that
i was worth
more than

a subtle
  "thank
     you.”
whispered
     into the
      curve of my
            breast.

so i left home
with holes in
my pockets
and a period
of harsh
abstinence
hanging over
my chest like

a ******* sword.

jesus left me a
gun under the
table.

he didn't remember
to leave a note telling
me what it's for, but
i think i'm smart
enough to put one
and two, together. (or
                        am i?):(i am).

it's about a week or so later
when momma tells me
'god ain't real' and rips
it from my hands but
they still  sh a ke     and
reach for love that isn't
there. (in the spaces. the
                    c a b i n e t s ).

: i feel self-empowered at
the thought that maybe i
put it there - memory
evades me -- ***** me                       | high
until i'm low again.                               again. |
                                 (it's all the same).

days pass and i find
it taped under my
desk but this time
with a **** note.

"to forget" it says. "from
someone who cares."

and i think
let's see if it'll actually
            hurt          so
                  mouth open
                              black berry sm ell s
                            taunt me into
                      relaxation, (am i in
                                  p a r a d i s e ):::(i think
                                                             i am).

i know it's the love wrapping
its skeleton arms around
my body when i  f a  l   l     to
                                  the
                                          floor. || everything
                                                  is silent
                                                      on this
                                                        side.






**(c) 2014 jude rigor

no
one
cares
unless
you've
got that
gun right
up against
your skull.





**(c) 2014 jude rigor

.

your eyes burn like
krypton lights on  
charlie brown's
christmas tree,
painfully
aware that
they are and
only can be
fire hazards.




**(c) 2014 jude rigor

you look beautiful
with that tar smothered
all over your mouth.




**(c) jude rigor 2014

dusting stars across
a galaxy
that never wanted
you in the first place.





**(c) 2014 jude rigor

.

    i'm watching
    the universe,
    fog creeping
    up the glass

  i press my face so
far into the wall
that it cracks

              stretching its
      limbs freckle
                   to freckle,
        branching
                   across celestial
          skies:

                                  and suddenly
                                        i can breathe.





                                    **(c) jude rigor 2014

atlas, you man
of a monster:
why have you
laid my mother
out on her back,
across the earth?

i swear to you,
fail to keep her
heartbeat trembling
and i will shake the
universe from your
shoulders.

no more smoking
breaks in the
lavatory.

you're made
of stone anyways.





**(c) jude rigor 2014

he rolls in
mint leaves
and cigarette
smoke,

standing up
to waltz out
the back
door

and out to
the moonlit
streets of
our urban
nightmare

before i have
a chance to
whisper, i miss
you -
          don't leave.





**(c) 2014 jude rigor