this is the city
that my daddy built
inside of me
between my guts
where my heart should be.
what isn’t rusted
or burnt out
or tired
is barbed-wire and wary.

this is the city
that my daddy built
with his anger.
it’s set up high
on a hill of scissors and blood oranges
and blood oranges with scissors
inside of them,
red juice stains
in sticky pools and dirt.

this is the city that my daddy built
in our house.
in our home.
where the people are shadows,
speaking in whispers
tiptoeing behind closed doors
so as not to rouse the beast.

this is the city
that my daddy built
here we pay tithes in blood oranges
to humor his desires
warding off uncalled for bloodshed
like the time that I
finally stood up for myself
and he broke the kitchen table
with his fists.
it was an antique
that traveled with my great-grandmother
from Sweden,
now just another broken thing
in the landslide
of scissors
and blood oranges
and dirt.

this is the city
that my daddy built,
scarring my skeleton,
following me everywhere
like a spilled bottle of India ink
blacking out the finely drawn sun,
like past transgressions
follow the guilty,
like the golden touch of Midas,
turning everything into
a mountain of scissors and
blood oranges and dirt.

this is the city that
my daddy built,
making my concept of home
a depiction of ruins;
the vestiges of what
could have been
if we hadn’t lived
too close to his minefield,
before causing my mother
to take my sisters and leave
like a snowbird at the arrival of spring,
at last realizing that her spine
consisted of wings.

this is the city
that my daddy built.
this is the city that
scarred and weary,
shadows of skeletons of birds, we
will move on, leaving behind
brick by ***** brick
until it’s nothing but a memory
of a pile
of blood oranges
and scissors
and dirt.

You’re orange to me
When we met at the beach
The passenger door light
Lit your face a warm peach

So orange we’ll be
As the sun goes down
A ripe mandarin
That never goes brown

Love spills out from me in the form of words and tears and laughter.

I want to touch you and hold you and kiss you and love you so tenderly and with such softness that one wrong step could crush me.

Put me in your mouth and chew me up.
Take a bite out of my ripe, tender skin.
All you’ll find in this flesh, is love love love. Sweet and soft and juicy the way a peach bleeds.

Mmm, tempting fate
Standing above storm clouds
Icarus bled silver regret
So he could be his own sun

And the audience behind the
Heavy blue curtains weep
And the sound effects team take thunder
From their giving hands

Oh, heroic, ironic
tragedy

he burned under the gaze
of our eyes

your face illuminated in the moonlight,
glowing, soft and gentle features—
who were you, i wonder?
the stars above us speckling the sky,
i lean on your side, pain in your eyes,
and through your hurt i realize,
you glance at me, afraid, unsure.
my heart is stricken, my mind, it aches;
the surroundings were no match to your beauty.
i draw my hand meekly to yours,
our fingertips touch, i begin to slow back,
you're scared now, drawing weary breaths,
yet you held my hand, and i felt so real.
closing my eyes, sinking deeper into your arms,
and letting the night encase us both,
the sky felt true and memories numb,
but i knew it was all a dream.

i crawl back into the womb,
dripping spit and licking my wounds.
this is no way to grow.
rising from the earth like a sapling,
i spill like cough drops,
like a sermon,
out onto the mossy ground and
into the world.
how i will learn to love it so.
oh, how i will learn to love this world.