i am streaming

like feathers and electric cords

across the floor

my hair is spread
like spilled water
over this persian rug that i lay upon


i spread my legs

jolene
i am naked

and waiting for you


i am
hungry

and i am

weak
from running

but the sweat
feels like a cold shower


and i cringe
and wince
from the pleasure
i tremble


from every flick
and every lick


oh, jolene


i would pay so much more than thirty dollars

for the pleasure you bestow upon me

thank god for the *******.

if i could tell you everything,
i would tell you with this song.
but i won't sing it to you,
my throat is dry and
aching from crying in my

cold metal framed bed

i feel like coat hangers in the front closet
and clean desks

and pens without ink.

i would sing to you
but i can't hold a tune

i feel like a shampoo bottle
after two and a half months


if shampoo bottles could feel,
i would.


i would feel so much.
the fire and the cold

and the ache
that sweet sweet ache

and i can't figure out which part of me it's coming from.


if i could tell you everything,
i would sing to you
but i am too weak to hold up this sheet music.


i hope you can understand

but i will whistle you the tune
of my heavy heart
beat

I have wide hips, a wide waist.
chubby cheeks and
short legs
given to me

by my mother.

she is not a witch.
she has wrinkles, yes
but they do not define her
nor would she let them.

I have no interest in making friends with fish,
small birds,
candlesticks or clocks,
or rodents.


I need human contact to survive.

If you put me alone in a house in a forest,
I will not clean.  
I will not wait to be saved.
I will not ask for your permission to go outside.

I will leave.


I do not need a prince to live happily ever after.

I have short bushy hair
and a ******.
yes, it's there.
underneath my cotton underwear and long lace skirts
that no one is telling me to wear.

I have a sister.
I go to her for advice.
I look up to her and I talk to her about
Everything anything everything

I do not need a prince.



I look up to my mother.
She is not a source of fear,
she is a source of comfort
and relief.


what are We teaching our daughters?

these imaginary princesses
teach our babygirls

to have long eyelashes
to have two inch waists
long luscious hair
*** appeal


and if they don't,

they will never live happily ever after.

If I need all that to get one,

I do not want a prince.

I do not want to be anyone's
cinderella.

I will not chase after anyone
if they choose to leave.

I will weep into my sister and mother's shoulders

But that poor,
poor
princess

will always be chasing
squirrels
to talk to

and men
to be saved by.

When will we teach them to save themselves?


When will they teach themselves
that there is no such thing as perfect

men see me
little more than a face
legs
****
*******

to you
i am only a hole for you
to stick your **** into.

i am so much more than that.

i have eyes and fingertips
ankles and feet to hold me up as you kick me down.

i was 12 and naive
when i was *****

i was 17 and in love
when i was *****.

i was 19 and moving too fast.
when i was *****.


did you know that you ***** me?
did it ever cross your tiny ball of grey matter that i meant no when i said it?
that the look on my face was not pleasure
but pleading
for you to stop?

no, it may not have hurt my beautiful little cuntgirl
but it hurt the girl inside my heart

and she hates you

she never wants to see you again.

did you know that you ***** me once?

i was 12
on a tattered couch
reeking of cigarettespotandcatpiss.

and he pushed my head further down
until i gagged
and i gagged

over and over
did you know that you ***** me?


whatever reason.
whatever reason you gave me
will never
could never
heal this anger
and disgust.


i was 17
when he assumed
that i wanted his **** inside me.
and he granted me the favor
over and over
and i loved him too much to say no
but i cried
when it was over.
and i left him in his sad armchair
with his pants around his knees
and my heart on my sleeve

but no more.


i was 19
and i was no longer stupid
i knew that two weeks was too fast
i knew that if he asked, i would say no

i told myself, if he asks, i will say no.
i will tell him no if he asks.
i knew that if he asked, i would say no.

he never asked.

he penetrated
and shoved against me like bulldozers

and left me feeling so cold
with my head on his chest


but you were not the first
and you will probably not be the last
man
to see ME as a hole

for your ****


did you know that you ***** me?

you did.

off feelings
in my ankles
and my elbows and wrists

i cry tears from the spaces inbetween my fingernails
where dirt often gets
[stuck]

i am new
i am old
i am a user of birth control
vegan sandwiches
and red carnations

i am an understander of
communication skills
calendars
laundry hours

i spell correctly
i am different
i am not an *******

like everyone else

but maybe I AM selfish

                yeah
                           i am.

I'm needy and god

i love burying my face
in the forest of soft
hair on your chest.

I'm selfish
                    ask me to
                     give you s  p  a  c  e


and i will promise to try

but the distance will
always be too far

until the day I
                sleep in your
                   skin

perhaps it's selfish of me
to assume that i am your
priority

sometimes
                   and time again
    
I am forgetful.

      I forget that you are
your own person.
i'm not you.

                    
And maybe I love you too much.

i miss you so much when you're gone,
so when you come back

I try to push our bodies together
and make us one

so that i can understand what it's like to be someone else
other than me.
maybe i live through you

and maybe you need space.

i find that i avoid comprehending
the complexity
of the idea of
            
                        other people.