If I ever see you again
I'll spat insults and hope they
Spray on your aviators
like the bugs that squashed against
my windshield the last time
I drove away from you

If fate destroys me
and I am in the same pub one night
as your wormy self
I'll tell you how you're the most
arrogant, vapid, shallow, womanizing,
******* male mascot
I've ever had the disgust to know

I'll slap you hard across the face
Oh and not like Scarlett O'Hara,
you demon darling
No crushing kiss will follow
and I'll mean vengence
vile will seep through my mouth
instead of the sweet saliva
I let you taste
long ago

If I ever hear your voice
or see your mocking manequin
among my tele again
With disgraceful force
I will lift that 50 lb set
and propel that ******* screen
across the state
The way your black static apology
shattered the brightness
that used to reside
within
me

If I hear of you
one more dispicable time
I'll grow bombs maticulously
within my empty core
and time them so perfectly
that all of your dysfunctional doormat
confidants
will explode the second they come near me
and their manipulative cells
will burst
and be burried among the soil
of ***** words
you whispered in my ears

****, if I ever see you again
I'll shatter every martini glass around me
and down a fifth of fireball
and breath venomous fire
and burn you, you beastly boy
And I'll pretend beauty amongst you
and walk away, a tall glass of water
That could diffuse
that angry licking fire
that is swallowing you up

When I see you again
I won't acknowledge your existence
and I'll be dressed to the nines
and I won't do a ******* thing about it
Because you aren't worth a sentence within this stanza

But I know I am.

I've been missing
authentic selflessness
devoted kindness
and the soft laughter
you let out
when I used to do things
like try to cheer you up

I've been missing
fiery conversations
deep and vibrant
they used to dance across my face
every time I had a stollen space
alone
with your voice

I've been missing
grace within strangers
the signs of simplicity in nature
The way you'd stuff me into your
envelope embrace
and those hearty compliments
that  I used to save up for calloused
malnourished days

I miss
you impressing my brother
with your dutifulness
and natural peace,
showing big bright flecks of acceptance
in your eyes

I miss
the lightness I would feel
the second I pulled into our parking lot
and saw your muddy shoes outside
our place

I miss
noticing the yellow parts of the day
brought by your soothing spontaneity

I miss
laying my wild heart down at night
and being able to close my eyes
without wasp anxiety
stinging the lining of my stomach

I miss sleep and
the way I used to be with you.
Pure     beautiful     lovely                and utterly unique

I've drank a thousand beers
I've smoked a million cigarrettes
I've ate at least a hundred Twix bars
I've watched Breakfast at Tiffany's hours on end
I've flirted with every male waiter that brings me
unfulfilling dish after unfulfilling dish
I've bought weekly **** dark outfits
and I've spent my life savings
on beautiful MAC make-up and a new Legacy
and pumps I think you'd like
I've gotten my hair colored every color I can think of
I've tried being an apathetic punk, an upbeat cowgirl,  
a wide-eyed polyanna, a harsh madonna, a ****-you-feline,
an emotionally charged marilyn, and a classy Diane
I've memorized witty jokes, and roasts, and rivetting last lines
I've modeled and sang and became an athlete
I've played hard to get, I've played easy and teasy
And I've twirled my hair and crossed my legs
and learned to walk while swaying my hips
I've ran miles and kilometers and meters and
I've lifted weights and done zumba and yoga and hiked and biked and

****.

There's no comfort                                  and no          getting    to                                        ­                    you.

The intimate connection

A closeness
where proximity
is never the issue
words caught from mouth to mouth
like a French kiss of communication
Seductive cognitive stimulation
Tingling understanding
from ear to heart to mind
As soon as the first word uttered
first glance in flight
it's as if
loneliness was never known

The lighthearted playful connection

Laughter released roaring from
the core
A dream fostered by two
to champion the fantastical
adventurous night of
spontaneity and the birth of a different self
Veins, blood, cheeks chuckling
A direct line of yellow energy
from one being to the other
spreading like unconscious permission
allowing comic relief
and free-spirited flight of
words, song, dance
It's as if
consequence of action
never existed

The healing connection

Rage and pain
spouted out of a
heartbroken hose
A desperate hope for rehabilitation
And then another enters the space
Alas, another enters the suffocating space
and pumps oxygen back into the room
for hurled haughty words
and salted wounds
No need to choose a side
the center of the bed, saved for you
to curl and cry and become lost in
another's blanket embrace
Holding exhaustion for you
It's as if you had four shoulders
to hold that world of yours
instead of two

The forbidden connection**

Two beings
owned by another
through
rings
or promises
or time
The universe, introducing them
The light accidental brush of a hand
Longing iris to iris
Lust permeating the senses
Logic and sequence futile
Crimson licking up breath,
movement, muscles
It's as if for an instant
a wish thrown out to the stars
to be an article of clothing
hugging crevice, curve, skin

I am not your accessory
a statement piece
to your spineless connections
The thousandth image-oriented festivity
That you thoughtlessly threw
Due to the boredom of your own reflection
I am not a string of pearly witty conversation that you casually bring up when you aren't capable of employing stimulation
I am not a magenta lipstick you reach to cover up your mindnumbing gossip about the neighbors indecencies
You try to duplicate me and slip your right, then your left foot into vintage leather Jimmy Choos
Oh but your archless perception of life
Doesn't quite fit your soul next to mine
Empathy was never your strong suit
Oh but a tailored cold charcoaled judgement suit--that fits just.right.
Still you try to wear me, despite discrepancies
And oh how you hate the way I mock your silhouette
I clash with your champagne clings
You try to bash me against silverware but I remain mute
"Oh but if I can't make her an accessory, I shall make her an appendage!"
Oh how Christian and courteous of you
In the same way you asked your bridesmaid to step off the alter when she came out to you on that heavenly day
You ask me to be your brothers appendage
Oppressive and aloof
Asking was always a waste of time for you
You expect.

I should be ecstatic
I should be breathtaking the second I walk
into the room with you
I should be full of effortless perfection and captivating laughter
I should hold you like the rare gem you are
polishing you, weightless by your worth
I should weep with sweet gratefulness over our stunning photos
and memory keepsake moments
I should be a beauty queen rolemodel
exhibiting class and coordination and intelligence
I should be ravishing in your love,
a kaleidescope of pinks and yellows and magic
I should be bathing in the taste of your devoted kiss
and sunning under your Carribean embrace
I should be a blonde hair blue eyed American dream

Instead of a
Miserable maniac that can't even write a        *******          poem.
Instead of a terrible daydreamer,
bored by the periods at the end of your sentences.      .       .
Instead of a tarnished transient seeking foolish adventure
Craving endless oceans, cliche flight humor, and saving
animals I didn't even know existed to begin with
Instead of a jaded view from every set of empty eyes
Instead of an indulgent *******
that wants more than this terribly wonderful life
that you've offered me.

I really should.

I leafed through the DSM this morning
diagnosing every ******* person in my life
incessent character flaws,
maladaptive responses
that ache in my mind,
and shatter my "normal"
expectancies of human behavior

In all of the descriptors
"has a strong desire to be the center of attention"
"is often inappropriately provocative or sexually seductive"
"Exhibits odd or eccentrive appearance/behavior"
"Seeks excitement and stiumulation, often acting on impulse"

the only person I could really diagnose
was me                                                                        your therapist

what kind of a person would you be without the threat of consequence?**

Vindictive
Sneaky and seductive
Luring every lost man
that stumbles into my undeniable grip
I'd wrap them tight with my blonde tresses
and tangle them with burning kisses
Leaving them stagnat--stuck
weaping for more
I would be a beautiful siren
singing softly to sailors
destroying their blue and gold
just to get to you

If there were no consequences
I'd love you with all my heart
Instead of being such a ******* idiot
wasting time on sailors, and models

Instead of fighting happiness with angry closed fists

I dyed my hair ash brown
Ironed it
harsh and fierce
I cut thick forest bangs
that hide my angry brows
and flirt with my long
black lashes
I dipped my brush
in bursting green
and painted my lids
to disguise the navy
emptiness
within me
I stained my lips roaring red
matching the words
that I hide, tongue to cheek
Nasty verbs and abashed adjectives
want badly to sneak out
and terrorize your every insecurity
I bleached every tiny tooth
bright wicked white
to flash towards terrible
wreckless superficial you
I lost five pounds
to fit into my saphire body-icon
attire
and don't worry, darling
my ******* are still naturally
huge and angry
from being objectified by you, *******
and I know that every
******* person
will think I'm a
goddess
model
queen
moviestar
and ****, I'll look like one and flourish

you will merely turn your head away
while I head to the bathroom
like a lush loser
cursing your ways viciously at the door
of your ******* gay boy bar stall

You are a model
a bartender
an accountant
a casanova
a catch-22
a poet
a pitiful romantic
and


a tormenter of my heart.

I search for answers
in others eyes
in poetry
and lyrical salvation

You're in all of them
my muse, my idiotic refuge
I feel alive even thinking about your skin
your simple movement
the way you curl your fingers around my hair

I come home
away from my toxic trembling addiction
I step into my platonic robotic role
pick up arm
put around husband
smile
keep going
somehow

if my time was inscripted
love letters to you would shock
this world I've created so innocently
for myself

this world of longing
and an empty stream of foreign trash
unnatural being

I am that stream

I'm in a state of constant rebellion
I boycott your love
and protest the war
That rests within my
guarded core
I'm in utter revolt
I thought I was enraged at the world
And the oppression it has cast on me
A silly blonde girl
such as I
I'm only at odds
with the self.
I've been advocating
Justice
Rooted in feminism
Responding only in fight and flight and freeze
and fury
Anything that
will help me
boldly wear
my riot gear.
I'm in incessant mutiny
and scrutiny
and, oh, just to be
defenseless.
I would give anything
to turn soft
for
you.

I wish it were enough
But it never will be, my darling

You could kiss me with
The yellow of the bursting sun
Idolizing every inch of my skin
You could twirl the ends of my hair
As if it were your world's glowing fringe
You could create the deepest ******
Curling my toes every rainy moment
You could stain your garments
With magenta messy love for me
You could thrill every wave of
My ocean eyes
Or grip at the seams
Of the fifty thousand cotton dresses
I shed this summer
You could binge on my sadness
Until you've gorged your life blue
You could compose every sonnet
Every melodical romance
Every crushing poetic stanza
You could write my name
All over the walls of your heart

It would never be enough
My love
It will never be enough

I thought I was stronger
a champion being
of swollen muscles,
arterial achievement

all along my vessels
depleted
unable to thrive
in the you

Malnourished
Adrenal Medulla demanding,
chanting
"beat! beat!"

return to functioning.        please.

I arrive
Altered and away
Hungry
Hunting for your crooked smile
your forest thick roots
your red hurt
your tangerine lips
your towering stature
that offered my infant soul

a famished freedom

Goodbye
Disgusting excuse of a friend
A confidant
I used to hold such confidence in,
Now a sickly
Pseudo relationship.
You and I
A Despicable desert dry
Duo
I can't spend another second
At this pathetic pretending
That you can offer anything to anyone
But a narcissistic notion
And a nerve-racking
neuroses of the mind
The universe is out to get you
I curse my oblivious self
I had forgotten you are the single
Cohabiter on Earth
Ah, yes
You are undefeated
At the blame game
I've tried to hold honor in defeat
But, I don't have an ounce of energy left
For your egotistical world
You unhinged
Dark gate
You let your steed of self-obsession
Out to stampede the sincerest hearts
You don't even see the *****
Destruction
You deal out
From your deprived reciprocity
Alcohol, your only ailment
Your **** filled words
Tossed out lament and futile
This is where we go our divided way
I will not claim even a freckle on your face
As a friend
I will not look back
Nostalgia is not necessary
I will detach myself from your
Leach like misery
And I'll slowly build strength back
A blood flow of enraged fierceness
Has circulated through my core
And it will be as if
I never had any bit
Of me
Belonging to you
Friend, now foe
Farewell

I breathe out
and inhale you in
sweet white oxygyn
reaching upward
through my nostrils
traveling to my depleted lungs
I drink you up
first in small scared sips
and then I'm gulping
the warm kindness
the authentic core-coating love
that I have only found one other time
in my mother's eyes
that has been there, this whole time
a devotion that demands tears
I let you own me
You wrap your tired arms around me
they've been trying for these five torn years
and you finally feel another human being
in that embrace
Your body like a blanket
covering me
finally allowed to protect me
from the harm I had created so wickedly for myself,
a *******, paralyzed in life
I surrender from all of this pain
conforming under your skin
allowing all that makes you so
incredible

"Five years," you say
and today begins
the first day our love is truly

shared.

Flying flesh biting
mosquitos
buzz around secretly
strolling up our arms
and making a meal
from our salty sunkissed surface

we let them feast

for all we are aware of
is the sound of our skin
shifting to reveal
the simplest touch

and those mosquitos
could probably swallow our hearts
while we compose music from our eyelids
clinging eye contact
sparkling iris to iris

even the old willow is inspired
to offer a flirting notion towards the river,
skipping her branches near the edge
of the receding tide

at the sight of us

I can't help but wonder
Why
Owning
The civilized lifestyle
Is so unbearably difficult for me
I'll co-work with my adrenaline
And take flight in experience
I'll take on the occupation
Of people watching,
Backpacking country to country
Indulging in culture
Surely I would be promoted,
"Employee of the year"
I could do that  forty hours a week,
Even sixty
My whole life
Now that is a career.
I could marry Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel
And hold hands with the Louvre
And make love to a portrait created at Montmarte
Now that is a vow I could make.
I could hold music in my womb
Lyrical flesh and formation
I would allow notes and rhythmic sensation to feed off of my nutrients
Pushing my body into stretch mark melody.
I could birth an entire album
Now that is motherhood.
But alas,
I do not live in the city that resides in my mind.
I am told to marry a man,
Birth a baby,
Own an occupation,
And dismiss
The yearnings of my heart,
Cursing civilization as I go.

I can only stand poets
and artists
and those who choose to be my muse
I only like punk band musicians
angry feminists
and men with great hair, to use

I admire, only, those who speak in metaphors
who journal and protest and listen to the doors

I don't give a **** about models
or actors or politicians,
weeds lining their inner cheek
dandelions spat, everytime they speak

but most of all
I can't stand your mother
the way she holds me captive in her box
"sit still porcelain doll"
she says as she smothers
as I try to become the fir, the froth, the rocks

I'm assuming
this is my punishment.
Walking around in clothing
you've touched me in
garments
you grabbed and unzipped
and twisted
and threw around your room
I wear them with weeping heartache
and disturbed remorse
I bare them like a mannequin
the clothes merely
mocking me
I can only wonder
if I stood before you again
with clothes littering your floor
if you'd find me a god
hold me as your muse

and if I would feel better because of it.
Doubtful my dear.
Doubtful.

I have never snorted
or smoked
or stung skin
with the explicit
substances of this earth
But I have heard that when
a human being goes from
first ****** experience to
aching addiction
Their brains have been
flooded
with seratonin
to such a devestating
degree
that they can no longer
enjoy organic bliss

                                                        sc­ent
                                                        taste­
                                                        touch
  ­                                                      melody

Wha­t I want to know
Is if this is what happened to me
because of **you

I hid under my throw
covering every inch of self
I curled in child's pose position
and clung to my toes
I kissed my shoulder
and whispered a tiny prayer
Patches of quilt protected me,
but your gremlin words kept bouncing
from the walls to the ceiling
to the window to the fan
Under my bed, where you lay
Monologue Monsters
attacked
Those threads within that
colored quilt
disintegrated
and there I was a child
exposed

In my ideal world
We would all speak in movement
a beautiful dance
interpretive
much like a whimsical
musical
I'd weave
wringing out
socially acceptable action
soaring through the air
on wings of weirdness
There would be paragraphs,
novels
all written
with the bending of my back
the twirling of fingers
and twisting
and flipping of my  
crazy curly coils
of hair on my head
Poetry would seep through the muscles
of my body
and you would respond
only in embrasive motility
fluidly moving
to song and unspoken language
and we would all be a frenzied
foolish
*interpretive dance

Last night
I picked up a self help book
I drank some "meditation tea" whatever the hell that is
I listened to an awful song
that wouldn't remind me of you
I tried yoga
I even prayed to God
God knows it's been awhile
since I felt existential
I went to my favorite grocer
and talked to the most inviting cashier
I thought it might help
I "channeled" my energy
I lifted weights
I flirted with my trainer
I put on red lipstick
I weeped.
I blogged
I analyzed myself
and my family
and mostly my dad
I "ate my feelings"
I googled "how to get over someone"
I ripped your love letter
in a million pieces
I reminded myself of all my "blessings"
I drove an extra time around my block
I stayed up way too late
watching infomercials about beauty
and vapid mind numbing consumerism
I tried to learn the guitar
I called my brother
just to hear his voice
before the beep
and just to hear mine
after it
I smiled and stared out the window
and pretended I was in a Hitchcock film
I went outside to smoke a cigarette
and I don't even smoke
I just wanted to feel the biting cold
against my hidden skin
I went shopping and bought an overly
expensive sweater
that won't fit me
unless I grew about ten inches
I read the Catcher in the Rye eight times

And I made this ******* list
that makes me feel so utterly hopeless
and chaotic catharticism

what a messy heart
staining my perfectly
neat life.

could I be your hadley richardson?
your delicious pear
you cut into
owning green flesh
cat, soak in my sweet nectar

could I be your bumby?
your Ezra Pound
bashing of heads
against the lead of pencil

I light a flame in protest
Waxy comfort, my rebottle to this
credentialed crisis
--Wildfires slither up to my terrain
And me,
The fire caught me years ago
I look out to choked sky
My disposable golden rod environment
finally surrenders and declares--"yes, me too."
I whisper back under smoky breath--"it's about time."
Blinking away ember tears...
I'm still blinking them down blue cheeks.
My face has been striped wet for so long
I'm pigmented in bubbled weariness
Underneath my epidermis
I block each volcanic bolo punch,
loving masochistic movement
My lush goodness taps out to
Core's tectonic intensity
My earthy green
Covered with licking ***** lava
My maroon sadness seeps through
Every ******* time
My tears blamed on the Tetons

I realized to my despair
that I am a terrible liar,
notorious fibber,
and compulsive embellisher.
I deceive
without my knowledge
For my empathy is so pervasive,
so consuming
that when another is experiencing
grief and suffering
and vexation
of the spirit
That, like the tissue I offer for their tears
I soak up every gnawing sorrow
and suddenly
I become in sync,
In belief.
Twinned disturbance
leads to expression
of experience
And soon I'm telling
others of what has just happened to me
when nothing has actually happened at all.

Could someone please relieve me of this torturous empathy?
Its turning me into a fallacy

I'm reckless
and wounded
and the most horrible part of it
all
is that I'm completely
unapologetic
about the raised
scars
I've created
in your mind.

She hits his heart all the way out
To left field
Where dandelion lies have sprouted
And mounds of ***** secrets form
She rounds first base
Smashing her cleated soul
Into each chalky fine line
Reminding her of the
Boundaries she's crossed
one too many times
She digs her heels
Into each swelled base
Inflated with promiscuity
Racing, fleeing from each opponent
With men's hearts stuffed in her polyester pockets
As she arrives to her destined home run
She doesn't feel a bit at home
Her weary body slides in
Hoping to be burried
Under the loose infield dirt
Hidden from
Hungry raging fans
And critics
Forever

The drive home begins with the Smiths
And ends with the Pixies.
I merge onto punitive pessimism
Heading north
Of an unfed need
Starvation, climbing with mileage
I switch lanes
Into loneliness
And putter up through
The Snoqualmie pass
The ceremonial point
Where I disown one contempt
To adopt another
From west to east
From mountainous mercy
To a pathetic plateau
This highway carries yellow lined cynicism
And white striped weariness
These pines hold my pining
For a life I long to know
Fully

These fours hours are my grace period
Of the transformation process
From untamed flight to civilized standstill

I have slept in my bed 800 times
799 times I have slept in between sheets alone, without you
And yet that 735th night
Is what haunts me on night 801
Without you.
I need to get a new bed
And new sheets
And new skin
That you have not touched me in.

I lost my grandfather
and my wedding band
all within the same week
I lost my appetite
and my summer skin
all within the same day
I lost my beauty
and the blonde in my hair
all within the same hour
My beauty, rusted
my hair, grey
I lost the need to write
and the poetry that used to stain my lips
my lips are pale now
and my need is a whisper
caught in the middle marrow
of my bones
I lost my mother's pride
and my sister-brother timeless connection
My mother is hours away
and my brother is drowning in addiction
I misplaced your heart
It's pulsing patiently
waiting for it's caretaker
like a dependent waits for their
distribution of doped up desire
and I lost myself along the way
in the iris and desperation and narcissism
of everyone around me.

The hunt is on.

After last week
I think I fell ill
with agoraphobia
Or perhaps my mind
retreated
turning hermit
and hidden
Maybe my thoughts
were trying to convince
my mouth to become
mute
My heart could have
tempted my limbs
to refrain from making
my routine tired
sloppy movements
out of bed
It could have been your
words
They could have gotten through the cracks
of my protective skull
and paralyzed
my inner spirit
to connect and inspire
and fly
Or maybe I was turned into a vampire
over the course
of the dreary long
tar night
Count must have snuck in
under the tiny slit of my door
and drained the life within me
forcing me to refrain
from light and the beauty
of a newborn day

Whatever it is...

I don't want to hear a single
syllable uttered
in my presence
Not a single w-o-r-d
hurled into my environment
like a sneaky soapy "I" or "me" or...
Today all I want is to
barricade myself in this
gorgeously empty room
and believe that I am the only person
on this planet
and that I don't owe a
a ******* thing
to anyone
especially

conversation

Mary Poppins
bags underneath my eyes
you've pulled out umbrellas
and towels
and cups
and bowls
trying to catch these

t
   e  
      a
         r
           s

Last night
I shed my black slacks
like shedding a sticky solemn skin
I opened up my arms,
feet twisting among the mauve carpet
I soared over the couch
caressing the curtains
they posed as my truest
partner to my fluid fiery dance
I shook out all the anger
that had been launching out of my pores
I twisted my arms softly over my head
shifting the ache and pain
from my chest, through my stretched out arms
all the way out
to the popcorn ceiling
I arched my back, lifting pointed leg
bending all of those burdens
out of my bones
I untwisted my tightly knit bun
and let all my curls fling
hurling the insults
out of my tresses
that I'd been carrying
on top of my head
all day
Finally I knelt down
as an ellipse
to the dance
that I will pick up again
the next time you enter my world.

I'll never let you hold me captive.

If only I were a type "a" personality
Then maybe I wouldn't be trapped by
All those that represent
Other letters of the alphabet

A free bird, caged by freedom

I have one day off
24 hours solidarity
You'll be on your fifth buzz of the weekend
and I'll be swallowed by our sofa
wondering

how     the hell      did I end up here?

A sparkling ring on my finger
a beautiful dimpled mate
pricking perfection
I've lost myself in how-was-your-day's
and smiling photos of me in white

and then right when I think
I'll never be found again
underneath the ruins
of ironed button up blouses
and twice baked potatoes

My old faithful accord,
the only item left that resembles me,
will summon me
onto the road

and I'll drive forever
until I'm home

I finally allow myself to be this
peaceful
Floating in a bath
of liquid bliss                                           s
I drained my tub of tears                e
weeks ago                                    l
And now above suds               b
of sarcasm                              b
and coping comedic       u
prism rainbow              b
I let my healthy glowing body
be clean
of all those days
***** with dreariness
I ring out
my cleansed tresses
That used to be
waterlogged with weighted worry
Warm and right out of the tumble dry
of your airy love
I wrap our soft yellow world
around my dripping body
and the fresh beauty
of your devotion
sits, settled along my
purified pores

You have allowed a baptism of brightness
into my life.

We wrote prayers
The written lyrics of our heart
Cursive words
Hugging perforated edges
Of loose leaf love
After our souls delivered
The message to a larger hope
In floating lovely regard
We then neatly folded the edges
Of the secret need
That had been in hiding
Much like an unnacceptable
Anne Frank diary
From a past snarky society
And we placed our individual
Sacred script
In one another's palms
As a promise to never allow
Something so beautiful
In a tiny attic again

So weary
am I
but the second
I let my head forfeit
and lay upon that pillow
Energy is thrusted into my veins
a longing for something more
for every man in this world
to fall in love with me
and for what?
to be a beauty queen?
to be a temptress?
Oh foolish terrible
animalistic
heart
You are my ache
my vice
this world is only but
a mere man on the moon
reflecting hopes and dreams
and cloudy lust
Please
can just one man
enter my world
without me
immediately
and permanantly
becoming his prisoner

Your
mug shot
stared back at me,
removing all mystery left
within the night.
I became grateful for the glowing screen
that separated your captured image
from my wide eyes.
My breath lunged back into lungs,
squeezing the walls for safety,
terrified of battling
the thick air
in the room
where I held your photo.

Your lips thin and
braced,
as if you were holding
your hell
in the muscles of your jaw.
They were grey and tight
like the rest of your skin
stretched across your foreign face.
Your eyes,
sunken
as if you were already a skeleton.
Death peaking through in physical life.
I could barely peer into your pupils
for longer than a fraction of a second
without looking away.
Your gaze cold,
seeping with chemicals,
reflecting a glassy turmoil.
The features of your face
were no longer present
the way they used to be when
I was a little girl.
It's as if time
washed the details of you
away.

A rainy sorrow
I used to get caught in.
Until realizing the dryness
of non-existence.

The only deciphering factor
that lead me to believe
that it was really you
Staring back at me
was the way your part
forced your blonde hair
to wave
around your face
and collapse at your cheeks

The way mine does.

No (wo) man is an island
But is it possible to be the
Roaring ocean?
Swallowing rocks with animosity
And spitting out a
Glittery product
Of sandy turmoil

No (wo)man is an island
But is it possible to be the grey
Black boulders?
Among the edge
Where the green lush ends
And the midnight blue
Sadness begins.
Stagnant and indifferent
To the wild hearted seagulls
Perched and picking
Pointing out the imperfections
Of a jagged way of being

No (wo)man is an island
But is it possible to be the drifting
Lofty limitless clouds
A pertinent part of the  paradoxical ceiling
Of the globe
Floating and spreading
Fluffy wings of idealism
offering frustrating fantastical
Dreamy substance
To a crooked solidified world below

No (wo)man is an island
But is there just a small
Glimmering possibility
That if I wanted to be
I could be an island
Lone, and far away
From these
Destructive city slicker
Emotions
That stack on top of each other
Like the condos neighboring my mind
Crowding my consciousness

I lay restless in your arms
like a toddler filled up on Halloween candy
I'm filled up on doubts of you
I said "I do"
and ate that too
I scarfed sadness and cynicism
but became stuffed
trying to eat up all my
hesitation for hope

Now
with swollen stomach
and a hungry heart
All I want is to purge
this lonliness digested

"You can't be in two places at once."

My palms are faced towards India
The space needle owns my eyes
My rib cage is Italy
My heart, belonging to Paris
My knees wobbled and weak in the direction of the Cayman Islands
The sting rays rubbed up soft among my calves
The breath caught in my lungs the second
I head east
Where you own my oxygen
in Spokane
My toes are pointed towards Portland
where mystery, wept tears,
and the abandonment of my father
resides.
New York city holds
the inferior restlessness within me
and this tiny little room
is where "I am."

I'm starting to separate from the walls
our couch
the dishes
the plants and
the map on the wall
where we pinned all the places we had been together
I'm starting to detach from the photos
Our sweet young nephews
The hopes of creating our babes
I'm letting it go
I'm divorcing your dimples
and the fact that your toes are as long as my fingers
and I'm divorcing the anguish
the ******* yearning
the tears that roll down my cheeks when I awake
and there you are
looking at my with a blank stare
coldness in your smile.
Here I am again.
Married to it all
still.

I bathe myself in preparation
Suds of lavender & honey
lathered over my smooth summer skin
I even shave
just for you
Moroccan oil pours over my scalp
exfoliating extra well behind the ears
ah the ears
my favorite spot
Gently dry off
Making sure not to miss any spots
above the knee
where usually a stubble island lingers
make sure the *******
are like starfruit
ready for your suckling
Lather cocoa butter
on elbows and around neckline
sensual, a paradise for you
My argan oil tresses, your palm trees
drown lashes in bat black
curl them upward towards cloudy head
I pinch already flushed cheeks
nice and baby doll pink, just the way you like it
All the while staining lips vamp scarlet
so that you may think their sole purpose
on my face is for
circling around your ****
I tweeze brows into crescent moons
over a Bette Davis eye sky
And I won't dare forget to bleach each pearly tooth
picket fence white
So when I flash my counterfeit grin
a twinkle may appear
and blur the emptiness
lurking between both corners
Now for the *****, bra pairing
of course midnight lace and twin
You, my dear get to unwrap this body of mine
How will you choose what to unravel first?
******* or ****?
Decisions. Decisions.
All of it for your
heartbreaking ***** machismo

I arrive,
just as those perfect hands
of your clock
strike the moment you wanted them to
You dine
licking your fingers after each dish
You breathe cigarette breathe
Your pungent odor wreaks over my body
as yours climbs aboard
Hair, greasy hamburger follicles
Skin, porous with choking chemicals
And there is nothing to unwrap
nothing for me to find
Except an empty chest
The gold had been in my pockets the whole time
I must bathe you off.

The main reason I've tried around five new recipes a week
and all of a sudden enjoy cooking
and the reason I've bitten my nails down to bone
and texted my good friends way too many times
fragmented and weeping with questions
and the reason I've listened to podcasts minute after minute
and audiobooks
and ******* Damien Rice's creepy voice saying the words *******
over and over again
and have a wishlist on every overpriced bohemian rag site
and entered multiple contests guessing Bon Jovi's lyrics
to win 50 dollars to Applebees
and the reason I drink red white and blue ****** can after can
after hours that end with "AM"
and the reason I don't feel like hearing my client's problems
and catch myself in fantasies about running away or climbing up into trees and staying there for months
and the reason I go to angry slam poetry events by myself
and watch Sarah Silverman crying on the television
and snorting coke
or scrub my gums until they bleed
to taste the iron with those perfectly prepared meals
I even thought about joining a meetup group
instead I just met up with my therapist and noticed she's wearing the same sweater I am
What the hell is she going to be able to do for me?
Take my seventy dollars and run
and I keep edibles harbored in the corner of my cheek
saving the ounces for the most destitute of moments
when I hear I have to eat lunch with my in-laws at Red Robin
and be blinded by their white supremacy
That's when I get ****** as ****
and find it all funny
and the reason I sprint into the woods at night and look up at the stars
sweaty and haunted
and the reason I keep "getting lost" on my way home from work
and stalk my ex-boyfriend's babies on Facebook
and wet the pages of Charles Bukowski
and then watch his documentary and scream at the TV in horror
and the reason I buy bags and bags of peanut butter stuffed pretzels
and my laugh sounds unnervingly different every day, as if my role keeps changing from **** to lesbian to raging feminist to kitschy wife lover to Eskimo to poet

is due to the fact that I am in a long distance relationship with my own life
my own soul
my screaming energy and robustness
my color
and craving.

Clothe me in
your beautiful threaded
words
create afghans
and silly uneven
sweaters
of kindness
around my curved
core

Feed my frenzied
gaping mouth
(in awe of you)
with
fruitful adventure
and the sustenance
of surrealism

Quench my thirsting
sponge soul
with your soothing
tea of tenderness

Warm my tired
tiny hands
with your sunny
disposition
and mittens of
merriment

Aw, darling forget all of my demands
Just sit next to me and                                    be.

If my dream state
was in charge of my awakened form
I would contort and transition--from mouse
to praying mantis
to your eyelashes
fanning out your dewy dropped ache
Offering permission
allowing all of your pain to taper
trickle down to nose
down to  curved lip
down to chin
avalanching onto breast bone

And what if I was a megaphone
Or a confident white man
in some overrated leadership position
Or a scooped out couch cushion
I would let you sit in the same spot for years
I would stand at the podium
and declare that I have never felt alone
or insecure
or flattened out
or in yearning to trace the calic in your hair
or a triangle of *** and feminism and woman

Could you imagine if we were voyeuristic with our touch
with our chaos
with our close eyed kisses
with our eye contact
conversations

The world would not be able to handle any of it
at least our world.

I had a nightmare that you left me
no need for my love
any longer
In my loss
I painfully pulled
our ring off my finger
consciously unaware
and as I went to wrap my arms
around you in the morn
I sobbed and heaved
and weeped
seeing that finger bare
thinking I had lost it forever
I searched in panic,
shallow breathed and queezy
only to find it in the middle of our bed
folded neatly
where our sides had been touching
through the night