The greatest mistake we make is teaching our children that monsters are not real
They are, but not in the way we imagine them
They do not hide under our beds
Do not even look like what we've been taught was evil, can't even see what is lurking
Inside of their heads
Movie villains are easily spotted in all black, ***** and cackling
The things that hide in the dark are not demons
I know
You're not a monster, you're a human just like me
Easy to pity because we both cry and bleed
You are not a monster
But you have seeped into my veins like poison
It does not matter who I am with
You will rise like the ocean and swallow me until I can't breathe
Wrapped in the arms of a lover
I freeze
His hands are not his hands his teeth are not his teeth
They are the hunters
They are yours
I know you're nothing but a ghost now
It's only the shadows of memory that seize me
But i'm back in that room and the door is locked
And I am locked and I am trapped
by hungry stares and greedy hands
Prowling like a lion and I am the prey tonight
Shouldn't have let the wolf inside
But you were dressed as my friend in an Abercrombie shirt and Hollister jeans offering what I thought was a comforting hand
But I am locked in your claws and they tear through my clothes
So I use the only defense left to me
The last resort mother nature provides
I play dead
Hoping my frozen body will somehow deter you
Turned off every light in myself one by one
The city in a power outage
Stepped out of my body like a ghost
Cold and unknowing
Hide from myself the way you cover a small child's eyes
so they wont see the ******
But pretending not to see it will not save you
Warning signs are there for a reason
Trigger warning trigger warning
I ignored all of the flashing signs
Why would I guard myself against someone I claimed to be like a brother?
Blind-sighted
Thrown off the cliff and your arms drag me down like an anchor
I am already dead
Wishing I could drown not even bothering to hold my breath
Your smile used to be so inviting but now your eyes are loaded guns and your teeth are like knives waiting to tear me to shreds
And I cannot run and I cannot hide
My body is mine my body is mine my body is mine
I know that he is not you
But you could be anyone
And in a way you already are
Because 77% of rapes are committed by someone the victim knows
And in a survey of college men 51% said that they would **** a woman if they knew they would not be caught
All the voices are yours
Telling me that I must have wanted it, because "Look at what i'm wearing."
Every shadow following me
Still hunting me as I walk to my car at night
Always prey as I look behind my shoulder every two seconds like a twitch
And I run so I can get there before you do
Every time
Before you can climb in like you did before
"No" was a word you could not comprehend, could not understand
But if dogs can learn it and listen then so can you
You were not entitled to enter my car, my house, my bed or my body and especially not my soul
I do not desire your attempts at worship
Will not let you take off my pants so you can
"Make me feel like a real woman"
I am fire burning every place your hands have touched
My body is not a piece of meat to be sacrificed on an altar
Not yours for the taking
I am a temple, a sanctuary
And you are not my God.

"You don't know how lucky you have it.",
I say as I brake for the bird
who is hopping uncertainly
in the middle of the road,
torn between flight
and flirting with death
one second longer.
But today it will live.
A still squirrel lays in the middle of the road
a little ways down
And I swerve to avoid it, too
Even though it was already dead
Just like the ten month old baby
But the world doesn't stop turning
for either;
and I weep
for both.

"Dear Mr. Mouse,
I understand that you're just trying to keep warm, and you're welcome to stay under the couch. But please refrain from coming into Daniels room or running under my feet when I'm in the house. Thank you. Amen."
"Did you just "amen" the mouse?"
"Yes. I have a very pantheistic view of the world, therefore the mouse is an extension of God and it makes perfect sense that I would end with "Amen.""
"What if the mouse is an atheist?"
"Well then maybe he'll still be flattered that I would think so highly of him."
"Or maybe you'll have ****** him off."
I laid awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, and every sound I heard that night was the pitter patter of little mouse feet- he had received the letter, and, being horribly offended, was coming to exact his revenge.

The pain finally caught up to me today
I'd been running
Hiding in the arms and the minds of others
Sneaking through smoke-filled corridors
Diving into a lake of liquor
But I stopped running today
And, having no place else to hide,
It found me.
All because I met a man
And I asked him If he let himself feel the pain before he fought
Or if he started kicking and screaming immediately
"Run." Was all he said
So I did.

I drank two glasses of a cheap wine and it left a sour taste on my mouth. It was bitter like your tongue and the mindless remarks that escaped from your daydreams. I felt like it was quite appropriate.
Yesterday I read on the news it rained for three days in California. Isn’t it thoughtful of you that you took your rainy mood to fill the blue with clouds and the sun with thunder? Then I mentally cursed myself for hoping that you had taken your gray umbrella with you simply because it would match the gray from your tired eyes.
I drank two glasses of wine and, well, the alcohol didn’t work. The fridge was empty and so was the your side of the bed. I sat on the couch with a half bottle of wine as my company and it rained inside my apartment too. It didn’t leave marks, it didn’t water my plants or wet the books. It just rained and rained.
(I was with you in California.)
Until my eyes dried.
The bottle got warm.
My legs fell asleep and I tripped and fell on my way to the kitchen; I bruised my right knee. I bit my tongue and didn’t make a sound.
The rain didn’t leave any marks, the wine did. A blood red stain in my living room mat to match the dark red sleepless nights you left with your apology filled goodbye written on a wrinkled napkin. These sleepless nights you left me with to match with the city that never sleeps.
Oh, so very thoughtful of you.
(You should’ve left me with the whiskey I kept under the kitchen cabinet, your The Smiths album and some painkillers for my metaphorically shattered bones.)
(I never really liked red wine.)

I miss the cold air penetrating my lungs,
Bringing me to life.
For once feeling cut off-
Independent
Completely free.
Its empowering
Entrancing
Intoxicating
Poisonous.
That feeling of freedom
"Just one last cigarette."
Repeated a thousand times
in dreams, on long highways,
at the corner buried in snow at midnight.
One last sin
Again
And again

Staring into the depths of a bottle
Trying to warm my bones
"You look lost," he said.
Smiling, I replied
"Not all who wander are lost."
His eyes were sad and grey
Long roads I longed to travel
And then his sad eyes spoke
"Maybe not, but you are."
He knew me.
Knew how I'd been spending my nights.
Seeking comfort in the open road
Finding home with each new person
In this beautiful broken world
With its beautifully broken people
The only people who can know runners
Are runners themselves.
He takes my hand and the roads stretch and melt
The hallways dim and all the doors close
My heart races
"Run with me."

Close your eyes, beautiful dreamer.
Feel the suns warmth radiate from your skin.
Let the midwestern sky fade into stars
that float amongst your dreams,
and light up the darkest parts of your mind.
Lay down your head atop the wildflowers and wheat-
and know that when you close your eyes, beautiful dreamer,
I will be there waiting.

I.
we’re getting extensively bombed
I can’t remember the last time we felt like the sky belonged to us

we leave home with masks hidden in our backpacks
afraid of every movement
feeling like we are the bad guys

they should be the ones afraid
but the government, they say, is corrupt
and we don’t know whom to trust

II.
and while we were sleeping safely
there were people who never slept at all
there are no rubber bullets in the suburbs
there are no cameras begging for justice

there is just pain, abuse
and prejudice
and bad things waiting to happen, and they always do

III.
the city was darker last night, silent
we didn’t hold any flags and didn’t shout any words
we just awaited something to happen

gather, hope, sense
suspect
whatever words you are looking for to describe
none of them will fit

none of them
will be able to describe
that feeling in the night sky

IV.*
we left
they said it would be suicide
I don’t want to give up but maybe that’s it
maybe they’ll win
maybe they already did