Orion,
I kind of miss your sandy hair,
and the way your eyes are bluer than mine.
I miss the way you'd watch me fall asleep,
and I'm pretty sure I can hear the absence
of your chuckle every time the night sky is clear.

Orion,
I miss the way you used to tell stories:
your face was the most expressive form of art,
I swear you lit up the entire room,
you were my forever young Peter Pan,
discussing the battles of young warriors
and the chaos of young daughters,
and how their hearts were full of mothering love.

Orion,
I saw you were in town tonight,
I noticed you sitting among the rest of the sky tonight.
Would you mind peeking in my room this evening,
would you mind taking me to fly with the rest
of the lost boys?

Orion,
I miss your tanned arms snaking around mine,
I feel the need to smell the sun on your neck again.

Orion,
Would you visit me, maybe?

Sincerely,
A Very Lovesick Girl

It's all about power-
  how much I hold &
  how much I'll use-
But you know I won't use any,
I'll just give it all to you.

Because how good of a friend would I be
If I rushed you?
If I drowned you in messages
  & notes taped to your door?
If I showed up in the middle of the night
  soaked in tears & carrying a lonely heart?
If I continued to drag you along
  out of fear that some other
  hands might hold you?

"You're still mine, you know?"

& even if I did all those things,
  what should I expect from you?
  A kiss?  A hug?  A back massage
  to soothe the pain of not being
  touched in months?

*You'll let me back in,
  you always do.
Because I know you still love me,
  & you have this delusion that
  we can still work it out,
  have kids,
  watch movies & brush the hair
  out of each other's eyes.

& so whenever I need to feel at home,
  whenever I need to see dimples,
  or a crossbite,
  or hair I used to compliment as "big",
  or smell that shampoo you've always used,
I can simply return to you-
Not as yours, of course,
  but as someone you wished was yours.

It's all about power.
& you give it all to me,
  every
  single
  time.

i've met quite a few demons in my time,
but these are new.  i don't recognize these ones.
as much as their sickening structures and
their long dark hair tempt me to step up
and say hello, i'm not sure i want to.

as i said before, i've met quite a few demons already,
and i'm satisfied with keeping them alongside me,
keeping me strong when the sun hangs low and
pushing me forward when i've already fallen to the ground.
these demons are my familiars, they are my guardians.
and as much as i try to push them away,
they never let me leave, they stick by my side
no matter what trials i put them through.
and so for that, i will stay loyal to them.

these new figures, though, the ones
that have been lurking in my closet,
peeking in the mirror, hiding in the corner while i dream,
they aren't welcome here.
they aren't the type to stay loyal,
and they aren't the type to help me when i'm at my end.
so they can leave,
they can pack up their bags of numbers and names
and twisted mirrors
and hit the road.
i don't have time for ghosts and demons
who just want to spread their misery.
i have enough of my own, thank you.

the needle drops lower and lower-
135 becomes 132 becomes 128.
belts are tightened to newly ripped notches,
newly formed bruises covered by fresh denim.
one fourth of a healthy day's energy:
   consumed slowly,
   utilized to its full extent every night
   when heavy breathing and sweaty collarbones
   help her slip into sleep.


*and it was an accident, i swear-
how would i know that seeing this number drop
would make me giggle and make me giddy?
seeing calories go from 2000 to 1000 to 500,
i didn't mean to let this happen.
but floating on hollow bones
has replaced my hideous form of body art,
and so i will continue on this path,
sleep-walking with dizzy eyes
and an empty head.

it has finally come to this.
it's time for war.
you'd better watch out,
because i'm the worst *******
enemy you've ever had.

you're going to be really
sorry that you ever
met this monster.

she is much less than necessary

laying in the dark, she is
replaying dreams and conversations
she remembers from 2008,
each clueing her in on why
this cycle began in the first place

she is much less than a necessity

and every once in a while,
when she becomes suddenly
and urgently in demand,
she is there
and she is his

but she is much less than crucial

the cycle she is living in
is made up of worrying
and waiting and tapping
her foot and holding
her breath
and then--
she is relieved for a moment,
maybe two, because for that
short amount of time,
she is indispensible--
and then suddenly she is
worrying, waiting,
scratching at her knuckles
and running out of air

she is much less than necessary
she is much less than important

she snapped right in half.

her eyes sprung a leak,
her hips are calling for blood,
her head is pounding,
                          pounding,
                                 pounding,
and her lips are cracking
with the conversations
of years past.

in such a short amount of time,
how can a girl completely and utterly break?