i have no plan whatsoever.

it's not loneliness that scares the **** out of me.
it's the idea that i actually have to face the world now.
i have to work.
and if i get fired, i have to cry (alone) and find a new job.



i needed someone to take care of me.
i needed someone to cushion me if i ever were to fall.

cuz us girls, we're taught that the world is ******* scary.
and that men have it all together.

really, we're just pairing up with the smart kids for the science project because we don't want to fail the class.

instead of realizing that we are the smart kids.
we could do the science project all by ourselves, if we wanted.

i told myself, i don't need a man.

i was lying to myself.

i couldn't even picture my future without someone beside me.

we're told as girls,
someday, a prince will come rescue you.
and you just gotta wait for your prince.


so i got into nice n' easy relationships hoping that it would eventually turn into true love
and in the meanwhile, they would fall for me
and take care of me like i was a child.

if i ever cried, i had someone to hold me.

always.

and for some reason, i thought that made it all better.

it doesn't.

i jumped around, from prince to prince
hoping that it would eventually turn into happily ever after.

knowing that i was too weak to handle the real world by myself.
do i have a life plan?

no. my plan was to find someone to make a life for me.

now i'm straggling behind,
while others were doing hard work at school and making friends and building relationships
i was sitting in a corner with you, fiddling with our priorities.

i don't know what i'm doing with my life.

but i sure as hell am not going to sit around and wait for some prince to scoop me off of my pathetic ***.

every day all i can do is get out of the castle and
get on my black horse

and go.

remember when we were teenagers

and you smoked *** and
i cut myself


and your mom hated me
because i'm an atheist

and how in love we were
and how much you made my heart beat

and how we used to make love
at any given second that we could have alone

because our bodies felt like they were meant to fit together


and then i moved away

and i broke up with you
because
you didn't have this list of things i thought i deserved
like a job
a loving family
a good college education
good spelling
a desperate searching want to get out of this ******* place and be something better than you were.


i was selfish
to let you go

but

god, i loved you.
if i have ever been so sure of something in my life,

it was that i loved you.

there is always a trail of men behind me
wagging their tails like little dogs

panting.

hoping that i will throw them a bone



but it is about ******* time that they realize that i'm allergic to dogs

and that the only one i want curled up in my bed at night

is my lost boy in texas,
with all of his warmth and beauty

i love it so much
that you dance with me.
in my room, you twirl me
to Louis Armstrong, trumpets are familiar to us both
Or you sway me back
and forth
           on bridges
they lift us up


                             so high

and you wrap your large hands
tightly but gently (like you're
                                  afraid I might
                                  fly away
                                                  -I won't)

around my waist

                             and look into my
                              windows
                                                    and see
                              all the rain


                                           how I miss you
                                                         when you're gone.

I have to stop this, now

too many poems

like in Stardust Memories

I am just a sad person
                    writing about sad


things

                and calling it art



and no one really feels
       what I'm feeling


because it is not.
art.


It's just my tears
blurring the words on
        the page

Get out of here
take your sweet hair
                 deep voice
                 stupid eyes
get out of this bed
                 it's only mine now
I'm sickened by my thoughts
are racing much faster than
this poem
I'm mad
and I'm missing you
I'm crying
I'm wishing you would call
I'm daydreaming of self
                                        mutilation

just to distract myself

        I haven't felt this
good
        Since I was 13

The perfect first kiss
we were nervous
         and I felt beautiful
and you had this look in your eyes
I had never seen in anyone
                                          else's.
You felt so warm, close to me
           And I felt beautiful

It was years of holding your hands
the air grew chilled
       around us.

The sky was a painting
               worth more than
a hundred diamond rings

And our hands were touching
            did you touch my face first?
Or did I touch your face?
            
we were both so nervous
drums beating, our breathing
was
soft and warm
                           The night wrapped
                              around us

You knew
                  everything about me
                                                 at that
    
                                                          moment

I've been standing outside
this ****** house


for a few weeks now.
Snow is killing the flowers
that you planted for me


The weather is cold

like needles on my fingers

The frostbite will soon arrive


and maybe
when my fingers turn black

maybe when the pain
breaks me
maybe then

I will appreciate being warm.

i hope you choke on your pride

and your cigarettes

you never deserved any of this


i can't take it back
i can't take it back



regrets

fill me
freeze my insides
like a minnesota lake

i have no excuses

                              i traded them for
                                                  a million "i'm sorrys"


stabbing me in the heart

prodding at my limp wrists

asking me


"are you dead yet, you stupid girl?"




I want to hurt myself
for hurting you



so here's a shovel
here's some rope
tie me to the back of your car
drag me
back to mankato

standing outside
bitter cold
eats at my ears
and fingers



when i hurt myself
the way i hurt you

when your pain
becomes my pain
                                                             this is the only way i know how to fix it




                 frostbite
                          tastes like forgiveness

Sitting in a board room with these people licensed to teach
Talking about education gap like it's some sort of disease
Like it's only the white kid that knows how to read
And only white teachers know how to lead
But i think that some people just forgot
That like america, the classroom is a melting ***
But for years and years it's been boiling too hot
And all the white kids are floating up to the top
While everybody else gets burned
Burned by the system
That just wants them in prison
With petty drug charges
And a better ear to LISTEN
Listen to the cops and the teachers and store clerks
Listen to the president and the creeps that urge him
To cut all the funding for public education

Let's just send em' to prison
That'll teach em'

crazy porcelain white reflection
I stare at it, at her.
feel the tiny pulses
in my neck slowing
          to short tick
            tocks

breakfast is no longer

my favorite meal of the day.

I sit at this desk
silent room
                    12:25 a.m
the world; asleep-ing

And I stare and pray
that you call me
I need you to call me
call me call me call
me please
           As I write the
words, I hope you hear
them, the pen scratching
like an alarm that
wakes you from your
hot sweaty slumber

It's so *******
anger-making, frustrating
that I can't call you
it's like some sick
game we play

And right now we
are both losing
I could call

But then I would win

And I can't bear

to make you the

loser


        tonight

then hers*
                   are windows made of
                                                        ice,
              glistening with wetness melting in the
                                                             ­         sun


opening her eyes for the first time in the morning,


her soft brown lashes brush against her
                                                             ­        lids
with the softness of
              a *fresh fallen snow canopy bed
                             made just for her

When she looks at you              (remember to breathe)


(it's like she can see all of your mistakes, everything you hate about yourself)



you feel the world
grow hazy around her
the ground falls away
from under your feet

But her eyes are windows
that let all the weather in (leaving her cold&wet;)

if you stare into them long enough,

                                        you'll see the storm

                                                          ­                inside

policing my body with your jealousy

controlling the love I share
the number of friends I could have

Always judgmental, Always hiding from me

Your **** insecurities
      brought us down

and when I fell
you chained me to the
        floor


foot on my neck

         -    -    -   -   -
     DON'T
                         MOVE



*or I'll leave you

I have not written
                     anything worthwhile
in months
                   other than the words
I send you,    in bleached white
                                         envelopes

and even though, poetry is somewhat
                                                         absent,


you   are    not.


                  and you are a wonderful
                                      replacement


but now I realize -
                                 I can have both.


Because sweet sweet,
                               you are poetry

you live in my chest and you

ignite me, a catalyst for

      these words-         a place
for them to grow

                      you allow me to be
                        me.
and you do this very simply-

by loving what I do. You

think I'm so talented, but I know

that some of it is just a
self-fulfilling prophecy.

                     You tell me
             I write beautifully -
      that you appreciate my poems.



Can't you see?
                           That's why  I

                               write them.

Can't you see?
                          You are
                                     my poetry.

remember when this oversized sweater was something to comfort me
and when i was near it, all my tears would be absorbed by the softness
and by the skin of the sweet that wore it

and that skin
to think of it
is no longer a comfort

it is a wasteland
a place i used to get lost

and now that i am out of the desert
i have tasted water
and freedom

and i don't believe that i will ever go back into that desert

although sometimes i miss the way
the sand felt between my toes

I lie in bed
(the one you never got to see-
thank god)

i think to myself

I'll just write until it goes away.


and i think about how

you are probably asleep in
your bed at home

150% oblivious to
how i just

wept one billion
        tears
for absolutely no reason.

Maybe they were for you
maybe they were out of anger
Maybe I was putting on a
dramatic show
                            for my one and only spectator
:

the knife sitting in the kitchen.

so while the other boys
tug at my skirt,

           buy me beer,

write me songs

           I still mostly
      forget about them
                   when I go
          home at 1 in
                              morning.

But you,
            for some reason

get my hopes up
                in the worst way.


When the rain falls
                and thunder strikes
                    my tired
                               red head


I still wait for

                       the mail to come.


No letters from
                     You yet,


but I can't tear
    my eyes away
          from the mailbox


      Because,

                      I guess that
              would mean



                            giving up hope

                                                 all over again.

And
            
I don't think I
                could do it twice.


I don't think I could let you break me

                         a second time

Rainy days make me feel complete
I love the sound
Of pittering
Pit pit pit pit on sidewalks but mostly
On windows

Rainy days
Make me wish everyone else would just shut up

And listen to life growing

I read that art is egotistical.

and it is.
        you are saying, "hey. look at
me. I'm actually *******

                 GOOD
                                at something."

and knowing that, it's enough
    to get me through hard
                     ****.

**** writing in a journal.
   my poetry is good.

                      so here you go.

                   enjoy it while it
                                       lasts.

this one is for all of you

What do you want me to do?

**** all your ******* memories
   burn all these ******* poems


I'm walking on eggshells
       over here
terrified that one miss-step
will send us both
over the edge of that
            cliff

So what do you want me to tell you?

That I abused you
        that I ****** you
that I ruined you

You want me to lie to you
baby, I will.

And I'll tell you that
everything meant nothing

and that I
     just love playing sick
                                games.

I'm sure it's easier to
       believe that

                         than the truth


because the truth is

                                                        I loved you

                                                    to the best of my
          
                                                             ability.



it just wasn't enough

                             for either of us

kissing the paws of
               a wounded teddy bear

          
          I know this is hard
                           for him, too.


                 We both miss

It's easy to miss
It's the hardest to miss


             you

we are kind of a new kind of brand of cool

if we had gone to the same high school
i would have had a crush on you because you play piano

and you would have had a crush on me because
you always secretly thought that weird girls are hot and interesting

but we never would have spoken
because you would have been too afraid that your friends would have disapproved

and i would have thought that you were stuck up and not worth my time


and we would have been so mean to each other




isn't it wonderful the way that life works out sometimes.
it's really hilarious, when you think about it.

When you look at me

your eyes change.
                                    from a muddy lake blue
to a golden yellow, shining white

          And I know that
              you are the most gentle
                      soul I've ever met
And I'll make you believe in souls
             just so I can describe
to you
                    how it feels when yours touches mine.

I can see your soul in those eyes
         It leaks out
                     when I talk about the
times I was hurt
            darling.
I have been hurt
                              and your eyes
turn grey like couds
                  when you listen to me
         speak of
                         the past tortures
                  the rapes the cuts
                          the scars the pills
                                  the pills

Your eyes never stay grey.

                     Because after grey comes green.

           Brilliant glowing like a
                     grass-covered hill where I used to
            point out shapes in clouds.
                                                         ­                                           (when I was 8 years old and trusting the
                                                             ­                                        world to keep me grounded; but gravity
                                                         ­                                            never did its job.)
when your eyes are
                        Green,              
                ­                           green grabs me
                   by the waist
                                             pulls me close
                     breathes me in
                                                   and says

"I will not let go
          
                    until you want me to"

But darling
                       your eyes lock tight

around me
              
                           and I like it

here.

i never meant to insinuate
that you never feel anything


in fact,
you feel things just as strongly as i do

and i loved you
for those moments


when you painted the music


when you held me as i cried
over and over again
(not always knowing the reasons for each tear)
when you decided to dance with me.
when you asked me for a kiss
and waved goodbye
for the last time.


and now
i'm faced with people
that want me.
that want to know me
the way you knew me


but i feel as though
i still don't know myself
i still don't know the part of me that you loved so much
i don't know where that girl is.

all i know is that you brought her out of me.

you brought out the best in me.

i just need to figure out how to bring out the best in myself.

because the numbness is starting to return
and i have gone back to filling my time with pointless ****

and spending time with people that don't really care about me.
because,
i don't really think i'm worth caring about.

not yet.

one day
i felt so connected to something i thought i had lost


i lost myself
in your hair


in your lips ******* away at my skin
until it fell off in your mouth

and i crumbled

to the floor

as all my innards fell out
of my skull


that was broken
down

by your soft
words

and hips

and kiss


and i could exhale


but i chose to breathe
you in

instead

I can't read them anymore.

I can' t read my own poems
                     because they

make me

                 want to hurt myself

I know that you've read them.

And they've caused you pain.
       So lately,
                          I've gone
back
               to where I was

To who I was

a panicky guilty person

with a soul that aches to
         bleed
                       because I never learned
how to just fix things.


I only ever knew

how to **** myself
         over to even the
score.

At this point
                I feel as though

I've ****** up your whole life.

        I've taken all the pleasure
out of every moment.

      I want to run blades

      across my wrists.

            The feeling is so strong

I want to do it, for once
not to make myself feel

        but to make you
better.

                     why
why                                 why


why    why why do i want

to hurt myself.


Why am I so ****** up.


why.


                    why do i always hurt
                               everyone around me


               why     why    why

                              does my heart scream

sometimes i get so angry
at the men around me
spewing out words without intent
since when is it okay to call me
a *****?

I woke up sobbing
My dream was too good
to be true
and it seems to have
ripped me apart

you had called me
telling me that you
had changed your mind

             you wanted to be
                    together

and you told me to
come over.

I knew exactly where
        to go

you were at my old
house, where I
grew up

with all the people
I didn't know I missed
all my childhood
friends
                  And it was as if
nothing had changed

And you,

you were asleep on an
air mattress on the
floor when I arrived

when I bent over you
to kiss your lips

I felt 20 years of emptiness
erupting from my heart

I just want to stop feeling empty





but my days feel like
a vast ocean, I
try to swim but
I'm drowning

I want to hear you
whistling yourself through
my door

I want to wrap my
legs in your legs

I know that I'm
only sad
        it will get better

but right now

           it feels like

this pain
                 might

    *drown me

there has been a lack of poetry in my life


so i concur,

i am exploding

with it now.

i can't write poems unless something happens to me.
something big and profound
******* up my life

or making it heavenly.


so until i **** up my life
or yours
or his

this is the only poem
i can write tonight

I loved what we had
      I loved being near you

the warmth gone from your feet
       but radiating from your chest

into my cheek, pressed
                              into you


love                 love              love
                  affection
              ­                   so readily available

I never needed to seek it out
      I was never lacking it


we used to laugh

                but it's been replaced
with silence and tears

I wish I could say something
to you. I wish you would
say something back.

When the equinox is
approaching
I will know it
because the tough
leather shell around my heart
shrinks and tightens

And I look at the
leaves on the ground
and think, "how ugly"

And the brown dry cracked
dirt from where too many
feet have kicked up
the green that
was once.

I see only brown.
even the yellow is
brown

Winter is not yet here
and already
I am dreading the spring

sometimes

when the lights are low



I can feel our breath

turn into steam

when i think about


love


it is a lost concept

One day I watched my sister cry
cry big blue tears from
her big green eyes

and I wanted to take
care of her

the way i could never
      take care of myself

because this black smoke
fills my lungs until
I can't stand up

and i live my life
through the girls that
wear 4 inch band-aids
on their wrists.

I miss it

      and I can't escape
it.

I want to save you
I wanna shake you

I wanna grab your ****** arm
show you what you
did to yourself

              --what you did
                   to me.

*look at what you're doing to me

you'll have heard how the city once
ended in fire. The buildings crumbled
and shook and mothers clasped their
children close, not aware that they would soon cease to exist.
And the fathers with
the strong outside, terrified inside looks on their faces, as their
eyes tried to float up to gaze
at the flames, but the ashes
floating around would sting as
they flew down from the
sky, that was also on fire.
And the only thing to be heard
was screaming and crashing
and sirens and it was

                                 SO LOUD

that it actually seemed silent.
                     and then it was.

and everything was done, gone,
    dead and silent.
no noise. at all
not breathing
not wind
not birds, not crying, not talking
it would **** you

And Sometimes I
can't hear voices

but there's this sound--
one hundred people
inhaling smoke simultaneously
today is different than yesterday
      because i'm heavy
my stomach full
and swinging from left to right side
as if i'm with child
but my eyes, all the while
are watering,
they produce silky sweet wetness
a familiarity to me
the gossamer sheets stained scarlet
i wonder when that happened
and how i knew to wake up.

Yeah sweetheart
         I say I trust you

You make sure that I feel safe

But you ugly heart
                 why do you do
               these things

You pant and squeeze and lick
                                selfishly


And you say you're satisfied with
                             just sitting in my presence

how many times have you told me
                     that you're a liar

        your words are sweet
           they comfort, make me smile
                                   and lean against you

but your actions

                           are telling me to run
       as fast as I can

                          in the other direction

because hurting me
                                        is in your agenda.

I gotta tell you
it ******* ***** to
be stuck in this
******* pattern
year after year,
relationship after
meaningless relationship

let me tell you
how much i hate
that i have this
ability
to convince myself
that i'm in love,
when really,
i'm just
not lonely
for once.

But i get somewhat attached

to you
              to your skin
to your smile
             to the sound of your laugh

to that magical scent
that makes me feel like home

and let me tell you
(pardon me while i contradict myself,
i am drunk after all)
how it is excruciatingly
painful
that i love you.

and i have no idea
how that ******* happened

because just a few
months ago
i was at a place
in life where if you
told me you didn't want to speak
to me anymore,

i would have been just fine.

But as the circumstances
stand( while i fall down)

My heart
                 is sliding
down a wall,
leaving a trail of
blood.

And i want
so badly
to slide a blade across this pathetic white little wrist

but i can't
because people would freak out.
so instead

i drink as much as i can
to stop feeling things

and i sob quietly
so as not
to disturb
the sleeping people

We're the most ****** up poetic pieces of **** 

We grew up thinking the world hated us, regarding it as a hostile environment 
But never paying it too much attention
Never giving it a second or third thought 


And when you met me you thought i was beautiful

And when i met you i thought you were smart


And when we started falling into this ******* pit of dispair
I started to regard you as beautiful


And now your eyelashes brush against my skin as you tell me that I'm intelligent 
And interesting 



Interesting enough?
Is it a grey area?
How long can i keep this up?
How long until you figure me out


How long until you see me for what i am, who i used to be?

How long until we start hating each other


Just tell me how much time i have
So i can appreciate you

In this moment

my mind


is ten different shades of ****** up


confusion and hurt run through my veins and take over my life


i'm not keeping track of time anymore.
I have no idea when this started or if I have the will to end it


i want to be near you
but my heart is going back to being numb

and i'm going back to being okay with it.


but i've got two weeks
to be weak


and then i can start to get over you
and i can begin again

i can begin my journey to strength
but i know
i know what that will look like

it looks like an act
i put on a show
and pretend that i'm happy
that i'm ******* **great
but i have no idea how to be happy



no idea at all




i just know how to fix these temporary problems by getting drunk off my ***
calling you

and then throwing up.

and then waking up the next morning next to you
naked

wondering what the **** happened and
why i did that

right when i thought i was strong again


i gotta be stronger

and i don't know where to start
because my soul
is missing a lot of its pieces
and it's too hard to go chasing after them

so i'll just let them go
and pretend that i'm okay


because if i pretend long enough,
maybe i'll start to believe it

I can't believe it's only four thirty.
I feel like I've been laying here
for a long time.
         I'm miserable, sick, hurting.
It's keeping me awake

             my bed is too hard
   and my brain is too soft

                               for sleep

                           at four thirty in the afternoon

i watch as steam rises from my cup of coffee.


drifts
disappears

like it wasn't even there to begin with

like wisps of smoke
spiraling toward the ceiling



but this coffee tastes burnt
and i'm drinking it out of the coffee cup you gave me for my birthday



i just want to throw it across the room and
watch it splatter across these ******* ugly yellow walls

Listening to you breathe, your head tilted back
The pillow a blueish tint in the light from the window
It is unclear if the light comes from the moon or from some street light
But it does not matter
The light is blue
And it shines onto the skin of your face, with little stubbles on your chin and the space on your cheeks near your ears

You on your back, my hand draped over your chest
You shift to face me, you slide your leg over mine, and our toes search for empty spaces in the other, then lock into the gap. I lock myself to you.

You are gone.
In a place of nothing, darkness, and light
You do not understand what is happening as I kiss you awake
Your eyebrow my target, I feel the tiny hairs against my lip as your lids flutter open
Like wings on the back of a bird that never lands

You stare at me in awe
Love in your eyes

Outside the cars go by on the highway
Wasting gas
They should turn around, go home to the ones they love.
Loudly they vvvvmmmm past us,
While we,
Sweet and slow moving like molasses
Move our hands up each other from legs to hips to mouth

Then down, and feel for textures
You call me smooth, my skin like a cool stone in a river

You are like a grass covered hill,
Mossy and full of earth

We move together, the light blue from the window shifting from you to me,
And then back to you
The light on your shoulders to the light on my hips

Everything is blue
The love
Your shy smile
My flowing hair
everything is blue.

even
My hands
Moving across you

Like a little sailboat
In the middle of the ocean

annie told me
              that she saw you

the day before you left.

and that she had taken a minute
to
  ask you
         if you missed
                      me.

"so, what did he say?"
i inquired,
my heart beating out of my chest


but she wouldn't tell me.

I can only guess.

and i think yes and no are both equally plausible responses

so i have no idea.
i only know that i miss you

every morning when i wake up

and you're not in that bed with me.

I feel in my skin
in my hair
in the backs
       of my eyelids,
that if there was one
house in minnesota that felt like New York - -
this would be it. Quiet dead of winter, the street filthy out the window,
people wandering the cold dark streets in the night sky
me, cozied up on your paisley couch with a cat warming my feet with its soft purr,
drinking a glass of sweet red.
you, typing emails for your union organizing, and playing your favorite jazz record for me. Me,
                                            in love with you

                  You, loving me,
                                    as silly as it seems to me.