under the bridge
smoking used cigarette butts
where loveless ones lay to
count their dying daydreams,
throwing rocks and rubble at
the railroad tracks.
i remember me,
i remember what is was like,
i remember how warm the warmth,
how sharp the night
that bleeds away through
forties and fortitude,
that cuts through armor like a knife.

you look like me.
trapped in the
timeless, endless dichotomy,
us vs. them
ready to steal, ****, fight.
i see my reflection
in your broken glasses,
my shadow in your eyes.
same age as i was, and
you're under the bridge, too,
and i'd be the last to eat if
it was me vs. you

i understand, and still
i love you.

i love you, and
i realize
that i was worth loving
because i do.

here, 26, and by the sea
where my body finds
the first rest it has
ever known

i close my eyes
i go back in time
i travel into the mountains to
find her

myself, a small child,
braided hair and shellshocked

i ask her if she wants to
catch fireflies in a mason jar,
she does so with splendor.

i ask her if she has ever seen the ocean
i ask her if she wants to come with me
i ask her, softly, if she wants to leave

we drive to the coast
she picks the music
she delights in the journey

i arrive and save her
just in time,
that she may never know
the taste of blood.

on her lap, her jar of fireflies,
a little light to
guide us home.

in the pool of your mind
in the calm of your wave
i sink forever
just us together
floating through tide,
not a soul to save
held in your palm,
the moon pulls us closer
to an early grave

i will make art
for myself.

i won't
stuff it in
my glovebox
and leave it to
gather dust,
forgotten.

i will frame it
put it on the mantle,
i will think of myself
every time i walk
past it.

i will pick myself
a bouquet
of wildflowers

i will not
shove them in a
drawer, deprived
of light,
left to wilt.
i will put them in
a vase on
my windowsill,
i will cut the stems,
change the water
intermittently,
i will admire them
from afar.

i will give myself
the love i gave
so easily to you.
i will nourish
admire
encourage
and nurture
my own spirit.

i will appreciate myself
for it, far more than
you ever appreciated
me

how easily i gave all
of me to
this soulless dance.
years of passion and ballroom lessons
to be a shadow
puppet, a
wind up doll
in line with your
every movement
alligned to your
whim

i don't know where
the music's gone.

i want to feel my body.
i want to feel the rain.

i want to be small, nurtured, held. spoonfed and sung lullabies. a hundred baby kisses on my hands and feet. cradled and rocked. protected. safe, when my thumb rests in your palm. i want to be your little girl- soft and new porcelain skin- untouched, entrusting in your touch. a fresh start. rebirth. maybe we can do it right this time.

you are so warm. crystal blue eyes like gems reflecting light. you are everything i've ever craved. the love i've never recieved yet always observed. i love how you cook me dinner. i love how you watch tv with me. i love how you rub my back and pet my hair when i'm sleepy. i love how you think of me. i love how you play games with me. i want to build a treehouse with you and live there forever.

you were my safety

your whirlpool eyes
forever pulling me
back in

your ******* always wet
with my tears

your hands always
in my hair
twirling braids and
pinning barrettes

you arms always
draped around my
shoulders,
absorbing all the hurt.
my only solace
in a lifetime of darkness,
the only one
i'd allow my heart to love
in all it's fragileness,
the body that birthed me

it is only fitting
that you would be
the final break before
the shatter

i wake up,
cough up the poison i swallowed
trying to ****
the piece of you that
lives in me.

the flavor of your breath
still fresh on my tongue,
after seven years,
the saltiness of your sweat,
the cool metallic taste of
your blood.

i remember it all.

i want to forget.

i want to shed this skin
handwash these stains you left
on my soul
with warm water
and sweet smelling soaps.

kick down the door
of this home you built
in my mind
and burn it to the ground.


this is mine
you can not stay here,
anymore.

<b>C</b>radled by night time, stars sharp as syringes
<b>A</b>ngels mingle with demons, shed their wings one by one
<b>N</b>obody cries, no one calls home, no home to call, nowhere to run

<b>I</b> survive into the morning, the sun sets, they say a girl is a gun.

<b>B</b>reaking bread, breaking bones and hearts
<b>U</b>nder the bridge, the train cars pass
<b>M</b>arried to the game, till death do us part.

<b>A</b> quiet pain, the kind that doesn't bleed, but leaves a  scar.

<b>C</b>an you promise me you'll think of me when the ugly turns to art?
<b>I</b> bargain with God, I'll change, just let me make it another night
<b>G</b>otta get myself together, gotta get myself right
<b>A</b>Anchored in pure darkness, I can still remember daylight
<b>R</b>egrets don't care the weather, and clouds won't disperse
<b>E</b>levating myself, come back down feeling worse
<b>T</b>raffic passes overhead, together we dig graves, the truth lurks
<b>T</b>his was fun while it lasted
<b>"E</b>verything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."

i.
you gave me
these moments
of guilt and
bliss and
guilt again.

this is a  bittersweet
surrender.

ii.
i want liberation

i want to escape
your deadly grasp
your lies of freedom
and promises  of
love

iii.
you left me
with nothing but
a sore body and
a maddening
silence

iv.
i beg for
answers when
they are already
there, laid out
before me,
collecting dust.

i beg for the
strength when
it is already
there, standing
beside me,
saying,
"i've been
waiting for you."

i am
a single
atom
carrying
the weight
of the
universe

the cabin
pressure
is becoming
too much

what is
healing
if it feels
like this?

every night
the moon
weeps for
me, and
every morning
the sun prays,
"please,
god,
don't forget
about your
children"

i am a hurricane
with a heartbeat

i love and
i take and
i care and
i feel
with such a
recklessness
it will leave
you gasping
for air.

you will spend
years and years
peeling back
my layers, and
by the time you
think you
know me, you will
have forgotten
your own
name

i feel like
a house fly

stuck between
a window pane
and freedom

void of depth
void of purpose

existing solely
to float from
one source of light
to the next.

i feel trapped, here.

my feet,
tired from
running away.

my *******, my hips
tired from bouncing,
tired from creating the
intimate friction needed
to sustain their worth.

my hands,
tired from weaving
broken scenes into
a tragic identity,
tired from holding up the sky.

my heart,
tired from seeking love
in neighborhoods where
darkness lives

i forged this
identity through
tear soaked
pillowcases and
blood stained
mattresses,
through
days when god
never showed
herself.
i found myself
in places where
love and heartbreak
walk hand in hand.

this one face
is all
i have.

it is inadequate
to you.

you and your
many faces, all
so polished, all
so believeable.

you line them up
on your dresser
at night, beside
meaningless
objects that
bring you
comfort.

you think i am
the weak one.

you accepted
whatever identity
was handed to you.

you are forceless-
a marionette doll,
they will all
pull the strings
and watch you
dance.

you are
lifeless.

you
laid down
and you
died.

i am something small.

something you wrapped
in old newspaper articles,
packed away in
a cardboard box,
and left behind to
gather dust in storage,
only a few blocks from
your home.

something you
don't necessarily want
to part with, but
don't exactly have room for,
either.

something you kept
trapped here
for far too long.

my heartbeat plays the cello
a deep, slow, somber song
echoing tragic reality
in to my empty being,
it sings,
"still alive, still alive."
i am longing for the final note,
for my strings are wearing thin and
i am far too hollow.

through thoughts
of death
i heard
god speak

she said
"are you sure
you want this
to be the last
beautiful sunset
you ever see?"

through tears i saw
pink and orange hues
colliding, tesselating
becoming one.

through tears,
she spoke softly,
"every night
we paint the sky
for you, the least
you could do
is look up
once in a while."

my body
is my story

for you
i am an
open book
        (you lick your fingers
          and peel each page
          delicately back,
            losing yourself
             in every word
                and line)

you say my name
like a prayer

to feel so deeply
exposed to you,
my love,
is the
greatest high
of them all.