there is no more room in vast darkness
      to place my emptiness
dragging raindrops stretch like mirrors
reflecting the void in dire need of a wakeup call
perhaps a tap on the shoulder
tugs
down
like
hooks
on my stomach

I had to go, I had to leave.
lay
        your beautiful face
on the pillow

and don't you

                                                .grieve.

This is a poem for the poems that are not ready yet
a poem for memories that have not yet reached the surface
a poem for miseries I refuse to accept

I'm not sure what the purpose it serves can possibly be
all I know is that even in the smallest way, I need to get these other poems
out of me .they are rotting my body.they are moving around harshly.

as a poet, I write when I am upset, I write when I am elated
there are still things I have to much pride to write of
things that swell in my wrist that I have not yet gathered inside
to see created into one of mine. To see breathe and become alive.

poets. poor miserable happy poets.
how do we survive.

he said you little girls.you little girls.
dont do pretty things no more. your eyes are full of lies.
and you laugh at us with empty pockets.
he said. you little girls. are filthy. no.
dont know how to treat no man right. you spread your wings
and throw us on the ground and leave us behind.
stupid stupid little girls.

and I said little boy let me tell you a thing or two
about what us women have to go through

since the beginning of time us women have been robbed
of dignity. of sanity. even of insanity. you robbed us of everything.
you little boys. you little boys.
you tied ropes around our neck when we committed adultery.
although that crime for you went by very smoothly.
you killed our daughters and slaughtered our babies.
you banged our heads against the wall when we didn't bare
you a male off spring. You ***** us and used our body as
personal jewelry. You had no mercy when your attraction pursued you
our eyes wet and our tears ******. no you little boys.
you set no boundaries.

a woman jumps of the roof and commits suicide. She was kidnapped.
she is being *** trafficked. Some over weight pig tries to shove his
**** in her face. She jumped because she rather save her dignity before
she catches AIDS. and dies in a cell full of other women who cry every
single chance they get every single nerve wrecking/shattering day.

There is a little girl with big blue eyes, and light wavy blonde hair.
she is 6 years old. She has no idea where she is. She see's a man
sitting at the end of the room. He puts his glass of bourbon down.
he thinks of his wife and his daughters, picks the glass back up and chugs.
he trails his finger along the child's thigh, he tells her its okay. the is stained heavy with the smell of old carpet and hotel sheets.
your mommy and daddy told me it was okay, hush beautiful don't you cry.
years later that woman is a ******* because when she was 6 all she was
taught is that her body is a tool. Her kidnappers showed her love they told her
her mommy and daddy didn't want her anymore they are her new family.


little boy little boy. let me tell you about the girl who was sent to
the asylum on her 23rd birthday for trying to **** herself with a bottle
of pills and a bottle of jack. She woke up one morning with re surfaced
memories of her father molesting her when she was young. She starved
herself and would not leave her house for over 2 weeks. Now her sister
knew why she was a lesbian. Now she knew why. Her daddy would come
to her late at night and rub in between her thighs. Im sorry to be explicit
but you say us women have gone crazy and little boy I am telling you why.

so before you decide to judge a woman take a moment and try to figure
out everything that has made her cry. Look deeply into her eyes and
you will see all the goodbyes. You will see mentally how many times she
has died. You will always find some innocence and if she really likes you no
matter how many people she has been with she will still get shy.
You will see how many times her tears have ran dry. Because I guarantee you that ever woman you meet has gone through endless night of heart break and no shuteye, has heard every lie in the book and been defied. Listen closely
you will hear the ghosts from her past nearby.
The definition of a woman is something that is unbreakable.
something that when thought of you cant help but sigh.

if you believe that you truly are a man
then to you my heart expands
it is hard for me to see you after all these stories
but I do try the best that I can

so make no excuses, when defending a case speaking badly of women
because emotionally we are distraught more than you can imagine
and still seek to find the good in every ruin

my heart claws on the inside of my chest. there is no escaping loves drum.
that rhythmic pattern that picks up. like the small things in nature in the morning. the undeniable laughter of the birds. the life coming after 9 months.
the purging after a bottle of whiskey.

I sit alone in my room. my hands are sweaty. I panic.
why is it against me and so out of my hands to deny you.
I stare at my dresses my womanly things that mean nothing.
I walk outside and stare at the immense blue in the sky. how it consumes me.
I watch the clouds sway. changing. growing. disappearing...
why does everything make sense all of the sudden. why do I feel lonelier
than I have ever felt in my entire being. time has never seeped through me
so slowly, every turmoil minute has placed itself like a beast upon
my forehead.  Every smile I see has made me grow emptier inside.

my tears mean nothing anymore. meaningless they are compared to the grief
that screams inside of my gut. it is seen on my face. there is no hiding it anymore.
I can solve every problem. unlock every door. touch every star.
all of it will mean nothing. Maybe I will find it inside of me to walk away
but this time tell you to come

Maybe I will finally accept

there is no escaping loves drum

I saw how silence rang in your hands
hiding secrets of illuminating tales torn.from the deep of human life.
trickled down like a prostitutes coldness. I breathe eager the things
that I did not work for to get. To know I can pick hearts like flowers
with he and she loves me yes and nots. I sit on the staircase outside like
a little girl in my white dress. just for a second I felt innocent.
and then comes that feeling inside. the rude awakening of brushed upon skin
too many salty droplets and a cringing thing named adulthood
soothing joys dance around like lazy stars without a care in the world
if only I was a star or even a particle of dust simply floating around in the air
I can make myself anything I please. I lie to myself.

lovers be lost. I can choose one. but what a crime a voice inside me yells
oh no no
what a crime.