holding hands with a shadow,
hoping maybe i could trick the tooth fairy into
bringing me a new set of canines and
molars,
i bled teeth in my bed.

i sometimes feel your eyes on the back of my head like i'm an alien with antennas and green skin and you're a scientist trying to figure out how i'm even alive.
i sometimes want to grab your ears and kiss them like they do in all the magazines i shouldn't
read even if i like the way models stare through me.
i sometimes wish your mind and mine were the same because my fingers are small and you couldn't grasp me with just your hands
even if you
tried.

[i'd
like to be inside of your mouth
and find new words hidden under your
tongue]

i am a *** driven soldier plundering though broken lightbulbs with
polite toes
(and i like that sometimes)
my hair smells like yesterday's memories
(and i like that when you leave me)
i
feel numb
both in my head and through my palms.

these words mean nothing without you to say
"will you please speak like a lady?"
and i probably would
if i could,
[but your silence
is like an unfamiliar hand pressed
closely against
my marmoreal skin
leaving nothing]
but
mouth-shaped bruises on my thighs and
questions on my tongue and
unaddressed letters on my bedside table

i'm sick of your *******-knowitall-i'mtheking attitude
your listentome-i'malwaysright-goaway aura
your shuthefuckup-can'tyouhearmetalking-******* demeanor
[or maybe i'm just sick again]

he went in a man and came out a boy
his eyes crystals
hands tingling
short hair grown long and
     unkempt.
he went in real and came out new
his legs felt still
hands in my hair
face against my chest until we
      wept.

my bare, bruised lady-skin
          is covered with a
thick carpet of sensual
                               secrets
           which will remain
                                        exclusive
        ­                                and
                             ­           elusive [until death do I part].
my bare, bruised lady-skin
           is made up of
freshly formed scar
                              tissue
         which will remain                        
                                        pretty
                 ­                       and
                                        pink [until death do I part].

linchpin boyfriend
hold me together at the seams;
for I
       can't stop leaking
viscous
memories.

when our faces were close and our mouths still
clumsy
your broken tooth always reminded me that I was
alive.
and now I hear you are getting your front-right-
tooth filled in because
the chip is getting to be too much for you to handle
and
you're 'so tired' of explaining how it got there.

what does that make me?

I am a well-maintained automobile,
battery charged and tires rotated,
brake system probably needs to be adjusted and my drive-shaft may need to be realigned
but otherwise
you could probably make a decent profit off of me.
My blood is thick motor oil, and
my scent, a lit cigar
ever-burning down to an infinite ****.
I'd probably go for about $10,000 (if you turned back the odometer 20,000 miles).

shivers sweep down my spine when I
hear your laugh and see your teeth
[white and straight and hypnotizing]
oh, please, I can't remember the last time I didn't want to dive into your flesh
and dance on your nerves
to see you react to my body on yours.
and while you're standing slightly slouched with
broad shoulders and rough hands
I sit slightly smaller with no fingerprints wondering if there's a chance that maybe our bodies were cut from the same piece of cheap cardboard, meant to fit together with their
jig-sawed  edges.

I spent months replacing old scars with new, nearly identical ones
(no longer self inflicted, at least)
and I spent hours looking in the mirror at the slight bulge of my stomach and the two mountains I called my hips
thinking
   "oh, these are such a lovely addition to my skin. oh, I wish they would last."
             and I wanted
nothing more but the constant reminder that I, yes I, was something worth destroying, because
to destroy something means that something was once worth looking at and deciding to
act.

i like to
press my hand against my chest and feel the ever-fading sound of my heart
for my mortality is undeniable and
yours is too.

i took notes in a real doctors handwriting
[scribbles with incoherent conclusions]
   every wednesday afternoon until
        the girl next door moved and
           i felt singular for the first time
no one to pretend was sicker than i
no one to help heal
no one to hold my hand in the cul-de-sac

now i've tamed my solitude
[i avoid it at all costs, keep it on a leash]
   every wednesday afternoon until
        i knew it was time for you to move and
           i felt okay for the last time
no one to pretend would stay forever
no one to feel near
no one to hold my hand in the waiting room

-Kissing boys I did not like
-Kissing boys I liked a lot
-Cheating death
-Feeling strong
-Being notorious for being notorious

please
  scream compliments that feel like daisies tickling my
cheeks
please
  feel my inhibitions dissipate you rogue aristocratic
tease

your greedy metal mouth  (the taste of tin will never leave my tongue)
   engulfs me
                                               (my parenthetical affection can only last so long
)

from the front she was round
  soft and warm
with clavicles that were ten-miles-deep and
  ten-miles-away (please don't stay)

from the side she looked like a skeleton
   blurry and blue
and her bones were bruised from who-knows-what and
   who-knows-who (tired of you)

i wonder what you think of when you shave;
is it a voice reminding you?
is it bare skin against yours?
i wonder what you think of when you're down below;
is it ***** boots and molten lead
        is it  the secret life of plants again?

scuzz and ****** and
drama queens                         
                           drugs and dye and
                           milky eyes



[i am bitter enough to rhyme.]

your
hands are soft and
you
smell like sweat and
your
touch feels like pin ****** and satellite signals.
your
body is raw and
you
run your mouth and
you
taste like broken promises and copper.

He said his favorite curve
on my body looked just
like a closed-mouth
smile; the kind I refused to
show because I believed
in                                        teeth.

I could die in this moment
with this song with this weather with this urge I can’t control
I could die in this moment
with no cares with no worries with no pain
I could die in this moment
with weak joints and heavy breath
I could die in this moment
with nothing left
dead

I threw that disposable against the wall
disposable as your heart
crushed in my palm
I threw your heart against the wall
full of pictures I can't bare to see

you have become the one part of my life I don't feel the need to be heavily medicated to enjoy.
boy.

(i crave your
            summer-sweet
                  winter-cool
                    kissing,
your
            autumn-colored
                 spring-fresh
                    e v e r y t h i n g,
against my skin.)

She stares at the sea while he falls, exhilarated
She stares at the sea.

She stares at the stool where he sits, anticipating
She stares at the stool.

She stares,
That’s all.

I haven’t broken your heart (yet)
not like

her.

I haven’t twisted your words (much)
not like

her.

I haven’t hidden the truth (often)
not like

her.

you say that you love me (but)
not like

her.

With its life in the palms of person(s) unprecedented,
And its soul orbiting other oppressor,
And its eyes glaring at glistening gloaters,
It slithers and slides and twists and turns,
Ruthlessly reaching for a rapid revival.

Its heart lays limp on the long, lonely lawn
And its spirit sinks silently
And its mouth cries carelessly
It pulses and pushes and wriggles and writhes
Hopelessly harking for a hint of help.

In terms of lovers
you were the       best.

In terms of pain
you were the       relief I craved.

In terms of endings
you were the      sudden
             stop of
                             a beating
             heart.

Dandelion fires on a
cloudy, sun-filled day
run rapidly, recklessly
through big
                  
                        bare
             ­                 
                                fields
(what would your lover say if he knew?)

Ready for liftoff?
Where are your keys?
Where is your mind?
Why don't you remember?

distorted face, discolored and slim.
haunt me through eternity.

I hate thinking about your face,
and all my pretty ******* lace.

don't forget the way you felt.

streams of emotional ribbon coming out your ears,
maybe that's why you never listen.

I am impulsive and unsure
I wonder how to wander more
I hear colors, loud and bright
I see sounds, colorful and light

I want serenity
I pretend I’m calm
I worry I’m not good enough
I cry when I am wrong

I am from the eye of a storm
I dream of the day the rain will stop
I scream to heaven, constantly mourn
I will not miss the rains’ ‘plip plop’

I whisper ‘I think I found a cure’
I am impuslive and unsure

To be alone with you,
stuck together in a still-framed eternity,
to be unsure of where we're going
in a blacked out picture perfect life.
Whether I choose to star in our own film
or live in a beatniks' reality,
whether I'm able to separate myself from you
or remain bound in our love stained story

Caught in a momentary lapse of judgement
hung on a wall for all to see,
this is the life we have been forced to live.
No one wanted to inspect the negatives,
no one wanted to find any flaws
in our majestic lie of a loveless love

He whispered lies to lust as we manipulated death
We were tripping together and chanting symphonies of language.
We moaned and were in love for an eternity.

My body becomes the problem.
I cannot move my arms,
I cannot feel my legs.
My back cracks,
my knees are weak.
Ill, Ill, Ill.

Black water ran from my rapidly aging hands.
The cobwebs of hair surrounding my head tangled around my brain and pushed me to remember the rest of the night.

All of the trees  twisted and began to breath with me.

I will never know if I gained a new piece of my soul, or lost a piece I never knew I had.

You ate my heart when I was young and now I’m stuck in neutral

In Colorado my mother did lots of *******.
On clouded days, she'd take some pills and try to feel the rain.
The snow felt warm,
the air was dry.
She watched the people passing by.
Her bones grew sharp,
her tongue grew dull.
Her mind melted away.
She started to wonder if she'd wake up another day.

They made her leave,
they tapped her brain.
My mother never was the same.

The iron taste of your
mouth.
The iron touch of your
hands.
The iron look in your
eyes.
The iron bars on your
windows.