Sometimes I fear
It is wrong of me to yearn for happiness
When I so knowingly unleashed
A fury of pain and solitude onto the soul
Of one I had one cared for so deeply
How can I seek those rays of bountiful sunshine
After stealing them away from another

And yet this gnawing of raw
Bitterness and resentment
That eats away at my inner core day after day
Won’t go away after having
Those same rays stolen from me
I am sitting in an old bath filled with murky
Dead water
Thrashing about and angry because
It refuses to revert to its warm temperatures
I need to let the water drain down the tub
But
Maybe if I sit here just a little longer…

Well it doesn’t matter
After I dry myself off and lay this body to rest for the night
I will wrap my arms around Remorse’s silent torso
Dare I say Contrition’s lips have never tasted sweeter.

Sometimes I fear I am more scar
than skin. More salt than water.
More gun than girl. I play the
piano; black and ivory softly so
you can follow me back to the
cave, to the gardens, to the water.
My body was not touched by
the boy, was not touched by the
girl that ripped out my heart and
ate it. I checked for fingerprints
on the side of my breast, my hip-
bone,the inside of my thighs—
nothing.
Their hands never leave traces,
never leave proof that one day
someone was brave enough to
touch the hills and valleys of my
body. Rachel Wiley said: *******
me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
He said: I would do it if you lost
weight. He turns off the light, but
I do not blame him. If he hadn't
reached for it first, I would have.
I keep on my T-shirt, make sure
his hands don't wander to places
I try too hard to forget are there.
They call me fat—I make jokes
about it so they won't. My mother
tells me that it's important to love
yourself even if you don't want
to. I say yes, then count the cuts
on my thigh, then smile.
RACHEL WILEY SAID:
******* ME DOES NOT
REQUIRE AN ASTERISK.
LOVING ME IS NOT A FETISH.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY
YOU COULD THINK THAT
FINDING ME ATTRACTIVE
IS SOMETHING TO BE
ASHAMED ABOUT. SOME-
THING YOU WOULDN'T
TELL YOUR MOTHER. YOU
CAN TOUCH ME IN THE
BEDROOM BUT REFUSE
TO HOLD MY HAND. I AM
NOT EXTRA THICK
WRAPPING FOR YOUR ****.
I AM NOT SOMETHING
YOU  LIE ABOUT TO YOUR
FRIENDS. LOVING ME IS
NOT SOMETHING TO HIDE
FROM YOUR SISTER.
LOVING ME IS NOT
SOMETHING TO HIDE.
It is 11:31 PM. I am the girl they
like to **** but not the girl they
like to have wedding pictures of,
hanging on the kitchen wall.
He says: I would do it if you lost
weight.
I say: I would do it if you stopped
acting like I am something to
be ashamed of.
Rachel Wiley said: *I say: “I am
fat.” He says: “No, you are
beautiful.” I wonder why I can
not be both.

Hello dear friend
how do you do
heard from a little birdie
you found a new boo

now I know it might be pretentious
what I dare to assume
but darling we both know
what I'm about to say is true

I don't doubt one day
this pretty young thing
will be giving you those ***** bedroom eyes
as she slowly unzips your fly
she takes you in whole
performs that sickly divine act

inevitably your mind will wander back
to a time before
where this was our norm

a dissatisfaction will arise
one you won't ignore when you realize
this new girl can't **** like a *****
her lips aren't mine and that's such a shame
because baby we both know
I had no trouble making it rain

Dashing by day,
A simple flowery dress,
Posing so prettily,
And seemingly sweet,
You appear warm and radiant,
Sunshine abounds,
Motherly compassion,
Such traits you say you've found
But what is thee by night,
When the sun dips below,
And the eyes turn blind,
Perhaps then your true colors show,
Malice and greed,
Such dominance you pursue,
A tight control of others,
Who may not even have a clue,
You may feign such flattery and love,
But your facade is fading,
And you poor child,
Do try hard to hide the wrath of those who are faking.

You are the monster under my bed
That crawls up through my pillow and wraps its claws around my mind in the dark.
You are the sunbeams that reach through my windowpane and make it
Let go
You are in my head when I smile, like a consequence, like an instinct
And you are behind my eyes when I squeeze them shut in pain or fear
Like a promise.
Like a bell tolling I hear your name when it is silent and cold outside and the stars are piercing and I am fragile as ice, cracking with the sound of it rolling through my head.
I hear it slide along my skin when I run my fingers through a cat's fur and marvel at the softness and warmth and comfort.
You are in my mind.
You are wrapped around it.
I have made you a disease because you refuse to be a cure
And I will die of it
And good.
Good for you, that you will finally know what you're doing to yourself
By seeing it worn on someone else
You
Darling

You are my nightmares.
You are my daydreams.

You are the insecurities that gnaw at my stomach whenever silence falls and I squirm with thoughts I don't want to think.
You
Are the shadow that falls on the street when I wander at 2 am because I cannot be still with your name burning holes in my bones
And you are what I wake up from full of longing and disappointment when I find my dreams were false.
You are every thought, tacked on, dragged behind, holding on so that
I know of nothing now that you do not cause
That does not cause you.
You, darling, you will be the death of me.
I promised.