the day i see you again
i imagine it would happen something like
me hitting you
repeatedly
with a blunt object
or a car
and breaking down next you
holding wounded you
like i wish you did for me
the day i see you again
you won't see me coming

"When I can't figure a thing out,
I think: 'I must be ******* up somehow,'
as opposed to: 'this thing is stupid!'"

"I think that's a much healthier line of reasoning."

"No ****?"

"No ****."

good morning*
i screamed to the burning sky
put your drifting fingers in my trembling body
let me *******
and turn me flushed and red like the morning clouds.

because i want something passionate to touch me
and your bare body with scratches of cherry jam
all across it
like the insides of a sweet and sour homemade pie,
steam drifting off its browned lips,
are all i have in mind

i want to walk naked in the cold,
with my ******* like pebbles rising from the
bitter slap of early spring,
legs bearing small braille letters
goosebumps in my golden flesh,
fearless.

are you blind?
i want you to read me with your body.

because i am so much more than this
earthly thing of flapping paper skin,
and bending silverware bones.
so please tear into me like a drill
digging into earth to ****** handfuls of gold
and find
my soul
because it's been waiting,
and i am far from patient.

i put daffodils in my messy hair,
and rub my calloused palms which have
embedded within them the scent of burnt tobacco
like old couches, and charcoal scattered blankets,
and then i pretend that each day doesn't push the sunrise
even farther behind.

"Girls shouldn't smoke"
I'm sorry sir, say that again?
Tell that to the 15 year old hispanic girl who sold her virtue under the guidance of the traffic lights to pay off her mother's cancer bills.
Tell that to the wife of a man who
beat
beat
beats her, because some nights she refuses to kneel at his supposed genital altar and confess her sins.
Tell that to the girl who has spent 6 months carving her home address into her forearms,  hoping that her Mum would smell the rust and come and rescue her.
Tell that to the girl who was stolenshackleddruggedsold under the consent of her father who used her body as a paycheck to settle his blackjack debt.
To the lonely girl. The ugly girl. The fat girl. The anorexic girl.  The bulimic girl.  The girl.
"Girls shouldn't smoke."
Tell that to the women who find their prayers in the daily grace that is, nicotine.
Just like men do.

I fall in love with boys that I've only known for a night
in badly lit rooms, unfamiliar to me,
with music I've never heard before playing very loud, maybe too much so.

What is so addictive about intoxicating myself, painting my lips red
and brandishing these boys' cheeks, and mouths and tongues
with a shade of lipstick that is maybe too overbearing, and tastes cheap.

All the while they brandish me, with unforgettable eyes, a kiss,
maybe too good to be true, and a personality that soars through the skies
leaving me attached, again, to someone too good for myself.

i lose everything.
i take naps on winding roads
above mountains
and i even lose my dreams.

sometimes in the shower i pull
violently on
my face,
seeing if i'm real enough,
assuming that it will crumble in my hands
turn into a brown puddle
and drip down the drain.

my mouth feels dry and i
feel aching
where my shoulder meets my arm
and my clavicle is nothing but a stick
covered with a
man of flesh;
my body is making love
and layered upon one another in a
fiery bed of red.

the odd thing,
is i want to smoke
and sleep
and lose some things in my memory.