bike spokes
and chalkdust
and sunsets
and street lights
and
being careful of how you sit
can't show those bruises
can't get mud on my dress
or there will be more
i can't i can't
i'm too scared
the chalk will be thrown out
and the bike will rust
but the laughter remains
just outside my window
but they bound me
like a straitjacket
i'm not insane i promise
do you still want to be my friend?

what is it
about me
that makes people
want to hurt me?
can they smell the blood
like a pack of sharks?
no matter how many times
i sew myself back together
my wounds still weep and wail
"easy prey."
docile as a puppy,
weaker than a fawn,
stupid as a child.

everyone writes about nature
they want to hear the birds
and weave a story like a flower crown
watch the sun as it goes down

but i can't stop writing about houses,
old and tired, new and perfect
the horrible things that they have seen
the sickly air hanging in between

the moon will always be here
and i thank her for that
these places will crumble and mold
and i am thankful for that

one day one day i can be
a flower or a star or a fawn
after i scrub the repeating
repeating memories out of my carpet

spare the rod
and spoil the child
yes i've been spoiled
you weren't mild

as a bruised peach
begins to rot
why wouldn't a child?
have you forgot?

now i have no more
cheeks to turn
what you did
makes my stomach churn

i know god
will condemn me to hell
even a sinner like me
can tell.

but i fear hell
less than i fear you,
it will be better than what
you put me through.

so i am free,
i am unbound
now that i know
i'm going to the ground

i'll take my time
to make you pay
and you will never
forget the day

this fallen angel's
wings were ripped
this little saint's
halo slipped.

hazy in september
third eye in the mirror
you bleed honey
where the mountain wolf bites

i tried to write a song
but the melody ran away
and i don't know
which one of us it was scared of.

next year the apple tree
will blossom again
and we'll hold on 'till then,
we'll hold on 'till then.

hit me
harder
make it
hurt
he told me
suffering
would make me
pure
i want to be pure
i want to be holy
i'm an angel
i'm a child
i'm a doll
and i'm so so so
scared of hell

i wear what you said
like jewelry
sometimes it glimmers
a dark red snarl of pain
sometimes it falls
silver cascading tears
sometimes it chokes
leather and dog teeth
sometimes i pull at it
i try to break it
and rip it away from my skin
but i guess that's just
the situation we're in
because right now
there's someone inside
i want to keep safe