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michelle reicks Sep 2011
this shirt smells
like sadness
and joy
and home
      in the most
                    beautiful way

and i can't explain it to
you

but you know what i'm
trying to say

before i even part
my lips
michelle reicks Sep 2011
if you were items in a box

you could never be
boxers
and old photos

because you wear briefs
and we never take pictures together
and I love that.

you haven't yet realized?.

i don't need to separate you from everyone: two three four twenty six boys and girls that once loved me.

do not ever be offended
by the memories of them that i keep
because the memories of them
made me into the girl that you fell in love with.

can you understand?

you planted a whole *** of red carnations in my heart
never dying from cold snow
or too much rain

you will never be an old heart bracelet

because moon earrings will always stay in my ears


you will never be a shoebox of letters

because i keep yours under my pillow.



you could never be
a christmas box of tears

because i could only ever cry into your chest.

to put you in that box

well, i couldn't.

i can only think of our roadtrip and our laughter


i could never put you in a box

do you get it?
michelle reicks Sep 2011
when i see you from far away i see you as a human

a beautiful human with your own brand, your own kind of perfection
a functioning body
hands as tools and feet as structure

and then you light up

and i scoff
and i think to myself

what a waste.
michelle reicks Sep 2011
i keep your
Love
in my back  pack

it rattles around
                  slaps against
my math and communication textbooks
i take it out
   ; ; ;           when i see happy
                                                   couples on campus

and i spread it on my palms
like {lotion~~~
it leaves my hands
                         glittery
            and very soft.



I keep your
LOvE
          
in my pocket.
it jingles and jangles
against my keys and my hairbinders and an old bracelet that broke [[[i'll put it back together eventually.}

I like to
I like to stick
I like to stick my fingertips
in there.
and swirl your love
between my thumb and
,forefinger,

some
sometimes i pull it out
and i
smear it on my
eyelids

           so everyone will know why my eyes shine
michelle reicks Sep 2011
why
hot tears of brown
fall into my ears
and dye my hair a new color

one that i don't like.


This
"missing you"
is so much more than my tiny worm body can hold

it's not missing anymore.
it's not
it's hot, hard
pain
like a brick oven and you've shoved me inside

it scorches my hands
and i kiss my palms
pretending that they are yours

and it soothes me
like a shirt
or a song

until the shirt gets washed
and the song becomes warped and sticky from scratched cds

how long will it be before you can no longer recharge my battery?
You fill me up
but i always die again


but
it gives me life when you
give me


your
sweet softness
and rough
             beautiful
gracious
           gloriousness
of the spine of your back, your back is
your back is
my back

what happens when you cannot recharge my
battery
so easily?

what happens when it feels like you
are far away

even
when
you
are near
michelle reicks Sep 2011
My daughter will not crawl from crib to tanning bed.

She will learn
the terms “unnattainable beauty standards” before she learns the alphabet.

She will never compare herself
to anyone.

She will never compare herself to Britney, Christina, Selena.

She will never compare herself to Cinderella, Ariel, Belle,
Hell. No.

She will never aspire to be the sultry *** kitten taking seductive showers in shampoo commercials.
No.

My daughter will be named Venus.
The goddess of love, beauty, fertility,

The most beautiful woman I ever saw.
She is plump, fullfigured barebreasted wide hipped with curly hair covered mons

Goddess.

My daughter will grow up to be ******, poisonously beautiful

With long locks of goldenrodred hair, like her mother.
Greyblueblack eyes and shoulder freckles, like her father.

And if I can never become pregnant,
my sisters daughters will be my daughters
skin the color of cinnamon or chocolate, or vanilla ice cream
and just as sweet.

Men, women, boys, girls will pine over her, fall in love with her radiating skin
that will never look photoshopped, but always real.

As if the sun came down from the sky to give her the glow of all the light in the universe.

She will love her body the way that my mother taught me to love mine.
I will show her pictures of Whoopi Goldberg and America Ferrera and Margaret Cho and Marilyn Monroe

And she will know that beauty
is not a synonym
for skinny.

Beauty
is not a synonym for
****.

Beauty is not defined by size
or color
or texture, no.

It is defined by how she distributes
her love
and light
to everyone she meets.
no exceptions.



and she will never doubt that she is lovely.
michelle reicks Aug 2011
I am oddly expected
to understand and
            enjoy learning about
scientific experiments

when all I can
bring my body to
            think about

is long tanned legs
******* that jump out
at me, like happy birthday michelle
she's so dripping wetmoist, shiny like a windshield
red pink and lightly browned
and I am so glad to be female.

wow
        biology is a waste of time

                           i should have taken anatomy
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