debussy softly playing in a dimly-lit room
i am watching the vinyl as it spins
and i can feel my head doing the same
only faster
my hair smells like peach and smoke
and you look like a hazy dream in your white shirt
mumbling about how we should've went
to that play instead of drinking
because we'd be sick in the morning
but you pour more alcohol into your glass and into mine
now all i taste is honey
as i get drunker and my giggles get louder,
smiles wider and hands braver
and maybe you're right
we should've just dressed nicely and went to watch
******* beowulf instead of playing russian roulette
because the bullet is supposed to bury into my head
so why does it feel like a cannon ball into my heart
every time you touch me and smile

slow dancing in the dark
like we have all the time in the world

like
the world isn't a war zone
and a massive grave

the ghosts
in this house peek through the holes
in the ceiling, blushing and turning away
as we kiss

i taste christmas in your mouth
and slowly feel myself flying
through space

                                             was that the yellow balloon i lost
                                             when i was eight?

your laughter in my mouth
brings me back to earth and i apologize
for gripping your hand so tightly

i can't let you float away and never return
like my balloon did

And I've got this tragic talent
Where I can fold up my feminism
And stuff it between my legs
Torturous ******, it's toxic shock syndrome

Apologies to suitors as I run fast from their drunken hands
When really I should be cutting those inebriated limbs loose from the bodies they've succumb to
Because I was taught not how to defend myself from charming attackers,
But rather to refrain from setting my drink down at parties and bars and family reunions

How is it that the Boy's Club manifested itself into the bible? And how the ****** Mary is only remembered for carrying greatness below her breast
Giving birth to the boy wonder all while keeping her ***** intact

And finally, once that sacred space rock exits the womb
We must answer to that almighty lord of genitals
Like if Jesus was a girl, the Ascension would have taken place much sooner
And that archangel would have had to start all over

Today,
a somber sunday
the streets flooded with
rain and ***** drainage water.
this town
has seen so many deaths--
men shot in the head,
the hopes and dreams of little
girls concluded far
too soon and the constant buzz
in my head that softly whispers
sad songs on loop.
i have tried
pretending that i don't hear it
just like how women become
temporarily deaf when some excited boy
catcalls them but
it wouldn't stop
so i taught myself how to
laugh and dance to the cheerless
melodies while grabbing death's
clammy hands,
kissing him on the lips
and whispering back,
not today,
*not today

Tripping over
a mountain
of paper
filled with manic
ramblings
to the grim
reaper
or to Venus

Who could tell?

There is not a big
difference between
love and
hell

i keep a red
second place
ribbon on my
bulletin board
to remind me that
i wasn't good enough

i keep defeat in
my back pocket
and failure
on my skin.

(i didn't realize
how nice it was
to actually be
good at something
and i didn't realize
how easy it was
to stop being
good at something)

took the things
i was good at and
cashed them in
for a quieter night

i can't eat
can't sleep
can't write
can't design

bake a pie
write a poem
cross stitch
crochet
i'm not
bad at it.

i still have
hobbies but
it's not like
it used to be
i'd rather
be cleaning
at least i can
do that well

(isn't that
a little odd
considering that's
exactly what somebody
a little bit too close
to me was feeling
when his world got
turned upside down?)

i'm just not
good at anything
not anymore
but it's my own fault i'm sure.

strip and skinny dip
in the ocean of solace
float on your back
and watch the stars wink

entertain the seraphs looking
down on you
flail your arms and move
your legs
let them tell the creator,
oh god, she's making an
ocean angel

and you'll hear him laugh
in thunders

allow yourself to feel
small, so tiny
to be strangely frightened
but electrified when you smile
at some stranger in a dark alley

allow yourself to feel

because there is so much death
but also so much life
so

strip and skinny dip
in the ocean of solace
float on your back
and watch the stars wink