i hope you walk
back into my life
and find all the dog
eared pages in that
book full of bukowski
poems, I only bought
it because I could imagine
it on your shelf.  I have to
remind myself that most
of what I liked, I liked way
before you but your water
brought it to the surface and I
realize I am so much more
like a snake than I think,
shedding skins that
belonged to you.

I'm not that kind of girl anymore,*
I said to him,
waiting for his voice to change me,
yet again.

i saw a quote the other day
about emptiness
and how no amount of love
on this planet
can fill it
when it's sincere
and i couldn't help but think
of myself
as a black hole
gaping and bare
stealing kisses in the dark
and words out of the mouths
of babes
just for the thrill
just for the reassurance
that i am desirable
but nothing more

because he took
the rest of my capabilities
with him.

He used to call me
cornflakes
not because of the way
my body
crumbled in his mouth
but rather
for my
inconsistancies

your love is too tainted
[by the memory of a boy
who will never be more
than a memory]
to give anybody else.

it was may twentieth and
he asked me
why I always tried to **** myself .
I never liked this question ,
but I loved him ,
so I told him .

I was like a broken table ,
in the kind of way
where nobody wants to have me
because they're scared I'll
break ,
and even though they know
I'm going to break ,
they keep putting bricks on me ,
expecting me to be **strong .