people try to
carve smiles on me
like a chunk of meat meant for the butcher
then try to tell me
to be afraid
and that they are
sorry.

people try to
tell me all the things that happened to me
fair or foul
describe them to me
in detail
and then reveal
all the inner-most workings
of the broken grandfather clock
that is my chest
like they've sat inside of me
for twenty years
observing
when they
haven't.

people try to
make me see reason
or their definition of it
but reason is relative
as is too much in this world
like
truth
and
lies
and
parents
and it doesn't bother me
to stare into them
with eyes that i hope make them hurt
somewhere
because i am not a grandfather clock
that sat in a church
for twenty years
i am a redhaired girl who used to smile
who even breathed
sometimes
and you never
knew
me

i know that we all break in different
ways (and who am i to talk?) but
i thought you were stronger than that.

firstly,
find everything
that ever scared you
collect them all together into a group
get yourself a bigass stage
stand on it right in front of them
and tell them
to *******

secondly,
pull all the memories that try to choke you
that try to drown you
like the mean hand
of that girl that used to bully you
and hold your head under the water
till your lungs hurt...
pull all those memories out
hang them on a clothes line
until they are dry
and so crisp
that you can crunch them
in your hand
and remember to laugh
as you do so
because once they were frightening
but now they are
floating away from your fist

and lastly
seek out your greatest fear
and force yourself to sit with it
until you have befriended it
he will be
your greatest
ally
he will teach you
how not to be
afraid

if you can make peace
you will always have it
like the funky necklace made out of beads
you made with your cousin

if you do these things
someday you will be
not afraid
of anything
but i wouldn't know
i can't even get past
step one

i'm sorry,
some things just don't
change-

(you could tell me
you still love me
one thousand times
and it wouldn't
make a difference;
i started tracing
his name into
the margins of my
school papers long
before you were
gone)

maybe it's time we just
forget

I killed myself the other day
And lay my head to rest
Upon a towering heap of hay
Because mother does know best.

i can taste you,
on my tongue, in between the cracks
of my canines, saturated on my
peeling lips.
and i haven’t been able to keep food down.
you are in the pockets of cheeks,
and you taste like guilt, shame,
and so much greed. greed.
i have brushed my teeth over five times today,
used mouthwash until my eyes watered.
but you are thick,
and i’m swallowing, hoping it will dissolve.