dark and poised
like the violet bruises on my hips
haven't eaten in days
haven't slept since
walked around early in the morning around seven
forgot who I was for awhile
I threw on a yellow sweat shirt this morning
a friend once said to me;
"Blondes can't wear yellow, it washes them out."
so I've never worn this sweater before
but I put it on and decided maybe I wanted to be washed out
washed out like my friends and
washed out because of drugs
and washed out because of depression
so i stumbled across gravel and saw a yellow dandelion growing in-between the side walk cracks
and I held open a door for a women
who paused and said
"your sweater matches your hair, how beautiful."
and my eyes started to pour like rain in February

Please forget about me
Do not worry
Do not worry
I often tell myself these things
These things
I am happy
Can't you just leave me alone
Do not worry
Do not worry
Head vs. heart is a cynical concept
It's all okay let's just forget about it

I set myself on fire and you watched me burn to ashes
among the ashes you searched for something to care about and you found absolutely nothing
I couldn't burn your hands or your mind
I couldn't leave the time frames I remember in your mind
This volcano I had felt was surely a mountain in your palms
because you never washed your hands after sorting through me
so when your lovers hold your hands
their palms will turn black
but you won't notice this because you saw absolutely nothing
never come back
never come back for one final goodbye
I am no longer a fire
there is no more wood to keep me alive
I am only ashes
and no matter what angle you look at me you will always see absolutely nothing

709

Publication—is the Auction
Of the Mind of Man—
Poverty—be justifying
For so foul a thing

Possibly—but We—would rather
From Our Garret go
White—Unto the White Creator—
Than invest—Our Snow—

Thought belong to Him who gave it—
Then—to Him Who bear
Its Corporeal illustration—Sell
The Royal Air—

In the Parcel—Be the Merchant
Of the Heavenly Grace—
But reduce no Human Spirit
To Disgrace of Price—

I met a boy with the sun in his eyes and the sky on his hair and a brain far more elaborate than anyone could compare
But this boy and I were never meant to be,
For he was the golden land and I was the gloomy sea
And every time we touched, we would have to part again,
And I was in love
full of tidal waves and hurricanes
But all I ever did was flood him
Destroying houses and shattering window panes
The waves churn inside my entire body
Calm and collected, smooth sailing
I wasn't always the sea, I used to be a girl
But one day I told myself
"I will always carry a torch for you."
but you were the one who set me on fire
And I became the gloomy sea to avoid the flames
But sometimes at night
When the moon glows against the black
I can still feel the phantom burning in my chest

They told me to write about how I felt when I tried to **** myself

as if any words could possibly compare to the open wounds and the pills and my heavy heart

I'm convinced the psychologist considers me her art