I don't like to sit upon your lap
And cuddle close to you
I don't like it when you touch me
And do the things you do
I know I shouldn't do it
Although I don't know why
But every time it happens
Before I sleep, I cry

Don't tell me that it's all my fault
Or that I'm the one to blame
Because I am just a little gorl
And I can't share your shame.
Don't smack me when I'm not naughty
And don't watch me get undressed
Don't let me see you without your clothes
And when it's time for bed PLEASE let me rest!

Soon it will be time to go
And Mom won't let you near me
Or when I give a cry for help
Someone will be there to hear me
I'll be glad when I don't have to stay here
Then you'll leave me alone
I'll be glad when I'm a big girl
And then I can take a bath on my own!!!

There are moments
when I feel more clearly than ever
that I am in the company
of my own person.
This comforts and reassures me,
this heartens me,
just as my tridimensional body
is heartened by my own authentic shadow.

There are moments
when I really feel more clearly than ever  
that I am in the company
of my own person.

I stop
at a street corner to turn left
and I wonder what would happen
if my own person walked to the right.

Until now that has not happened  
but it does not settle the question.

I looked through old notes and conversations
And realised:
I still love you, even though we didn't work out
I wish we could try again
But you do not love me
As I love you
I can hope and dream and seek
You will never be mine again
And it makes me sad to see you happy
Because I remember a time
When you were happy and I was happy
And we were happy Together.

The terrain of their marriage
is a glacial moraine.
Neither weeps but their children
are deposits of sediment.

i have a face cut from ice
a heart pierced in a thousand places
so to remember
always the same voice
the same gestures
and my laughter
heavy
as a wall
between you and me

the ones who are most alive
seem the most still

behind the milky way
a shadow dances

our gaze climbs toward the stars

As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration

I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way

I had to remain quiet cool composed

Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to
keep
me

silent

The fans rattling again.
It's not the only thing shaking in the darkness.
But it's making such a loud racket.
I keep it on anyway.
I'm afraid the silence will **** me.
I fight sleep like it's tangible.
You're always waiting there.
Just past consciousness,
standing in the shadows.
It's always the same.
Your backs to me and it will stay that way.
We're standing in a light rain,
the sun just faded.
I know every second that's about to happen,
yet every time it's like a new cut, over and over.
I say all the same words.
I say all different ones.
It never matters.
This story has unfolded a thousand times.
But it's different every time.
Sometimes I chase you.
Sometimes I scream.
Sometimes I beg. And curse.
Sometimes it's you instead.
You won't look at me
because hope is a deadly thing to give.
You know I'll always tell myself its there.
We all see what we want.
Especially when we don't want what we see.
Back in the dream, it's coming.
The part that will sit in the bottom of my soul.
Gathering weight, gathering dust.
You're in front of me,
but you couldn't be further away.
I'm on my knees.
A promise on my lips.
A disaster in my heart.
You step away.
One step, two, four.
Someone has been hammering my chest.
I'm awake.
Stuttered whirs of a broken fan.
The long length of the night stretched out in front of me.
It's only been an hour.