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please i apologize
i lived in my pain
i lived in sorrow
passing by the sun
with the heaviest heart
i’ve seen beautiful things
die and begin again

i am the only
of this body
and i watch alone
i have loved
and i’ve seen rot
i’ve consoled my heart in silence
in between all of them
laughing i felt alone

alone i felt alone
talking of my loneliness
with those who loved me
i felt alone

is there a place i can sit?
is there a place for me?
where i can begin again
or is this is the kindest place
in between a cruel vowel
and a kiss

my silence depresses me
i’ve seen a star born
with the boredom of surviving
this war
i’ve seen beautiful things
i’ve told you
i’ve seen beautiful things
and felt alone
and wishes for love
in the middle of the storm
when the rain comes
and throws me sideways
i’ve wished for love
i’ve wished for the words
in poetry to be true
this deep lingering fear
i’m sorry i’m shaken
it’s raining and thunderous
a cruel man
sits on my heart
and tells me what to feel
we walk
and i talk and i
but no one knows the tears
i’ve cried
and the passerby who cried
ten times more
enough tears to water the crops
why do we hide?
or pain, this shared burden
i am alone in a hundred-thousand
but i touched the hand of
a person who’s eyes held worries
and i wanted to hold it
pull them closer
and tell them it would be alright
tell them to cry
tell them to cry .
you ran from home
all the way to this foriegn land
where you will never belong
and you dream of
hot fire, burning skin,
the politician comes
and tells you to forget
he offers money

you remember your sister
stripped naked
***** by headless
visages of men

how can you forget
the day of reckoning

who would leave their home
and come here to
bear the weight of stares
a lady grabs you
and tells you
“jesus loves you”

but jesus is as brown
as the skin of your feet
he would walk these
streets and they would stare
he would go
and dream of palestine
like how you dream of home

of being somewhere
in between god
and a holy verse
where you belong

no question,
no economy
no one to ask your worth

there are no flowers in the
garden of paradise
no apple trees
no penance  

they tell you to not rage
they tell you to be courteous
but that is for people of theatre
and you were granted no audience
Can the hungry go on a hunger strike?
again, it has happened

there is a human shaped hole
in my wall
its darkness calls me
and i go there to get
my tendons ripped
i belong in that hole
in that wall

people worship stone and call it god
and if that stone breaks
it was divine intervention

i am tired of defending
my existence
my religion of love
why my tears fall

the hole from my bed
looks demonic almost
i gaze at it at nights
meditative even

i have done it again
as in walked inside
the tight walls
no room to breathe
this human shaped hole
built perfectly for me
it squeezes away at my flesh
the further i go, the smaller it gets
until my flesh raptures, blood
organs, guts, cake
tears, eyelashes, eyeballs

from the other end i come out
pure, untainted
as if my flesh was not
clinging to jagged rocks
as if my muffled screams
did not suffocate  

are you terrified of me?
you see i think your rock god
took mercy and turned me anew  

i have 18 more times to die
double that of a cats
and each time i will lose myself a little
promise to love me then will you

it disturbs you doesn’t it?
you’re counting my teeth
my sharp white ones
babydoll eyes
i am smiling in a way that scares you
but it is me
it is me

i have failed again
ladies, gentlemen, other things beyond the eyes
watch me dance,
watch me dance !
one day the worms will eat me
but now i smile for your pleasure

someone wants a piece of my hair
someone gazes unto me until it burns
this is theatre
i play it so well

someone wishes i had succeeded
someone doesn’t know at all
you want to see me naked?
should i stab myself in front of you then?
i’m not even a girl anymore i am
a suicide artist
and i know how to do this dance so well

this terrible spectacle you’ve made of my pain

that ugly brute who laughs
as if i wasn’t turned into meatloaf
a minute ago

that ugly brute who eats
as if the food grows for him alone

i am the worlds baby
and no ones

i am evil
like lucifer
from the rib of some ******* man

be scared
i’ll eat my morrow
and ***** out this cake
i will die a beautiful girl
and carry my own body to the grave
in class
and between our shared secrets
it is raining and i love you
you kiss me
you kissed me
i remember because i wrote it
in my journal

02/02 ; he kissed me

sitting on the edge of the tub
as you give yourself a buzzcut
i watch your hair fall, a sacred
part of you
you grew it for months just to **** it

it’s raining it’s raining
you’re coming in like thunder
and i’ve lost all my weight
i’m a half ghostly apparition
and half flowers growing in sin

‘i wish my self off this earth’ i say
you tell me to get over it
that’s love and it’s raining

my agonies are private matters
but i shared them
with my thunder man
who comes rolling down
a hill
and the skies turned dark
the clouds came
these black beasts
but i am good
i am loved i think
so the rain comes again
and your eyes drift so easily now
april ends
this will end too i know it now

sorrow is older and wiser
than the rain
than the thunder
than him

i was beautiful in the dark
someone wanted me
through worlds,
    & worlds
someone wanted me.
this is the way of the world
this is how you live
but i wish it was not so

we are good people,
we have dealt with the tides of pain
you have taken oranges from my tree
and i have eaten your plums
and yet not one complaint

i want you to live
and god to give you his light
if he will
i do not want a song  
or a ring
or a promise
we have suffered enough
and by July i will be tired of being
don’t let me name the lamb
before you slit its throat
its poor eyes staring up
at me - into eternity

i am not like you or god
i am not like anyone

don’t you know i have a heart
i have a heart
i have a heart
my mother says love is for
women on darker paths
it is uncalculated, barbaric, lustful

i tell my mothers words to the girl down the street,
hushed whispers, morning heat blaring down on us, the contemptuous ***** and the ****** pure.

but at night i conjure up a lover
from the cold air of my room
to the tapestry on my walls
my hands clenched and sweating
as if it is blasphemous,
and in the dark i tell him to purify me.
when you are born the water
which does not remember names
remembered yours
when your mother named you
and your father recoiled at the sight
heated whispers in the hall
father, patriarch, provider; he is planning
your burial, your disposal
while your mother tenderly brushes
the hallow head, the precious thing

tomorrow your father will take
you will know dirt
you will know sorrow
god will hear your cries
and he will do nothing

but in this room, it is summer
the flowers are blooming
your mother holds you
she whispers your name over and over
and it is beautiful.
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