broken baby girl
screams of want
for the new world
just beyond the horizon

but she's been
sailing a sinking ship
with holes in the
sails and
an anchor that
drags through the depths

crew jumped
overboard
a thousand
leagues ago
and she stands
at the helm
compass in hand
perfectly unwilling
to live this one down

100 yards from land
she holds the hand of the
figurehead tight enough
that slivers work their way
throughout her palm

and as she breathes in
the salty liquid and watches
the sun streaked sky
littered with screaming gulls
fade away

she knows that she's finally
found a way
into the great unknown

the ease
of being bad
and doing wrong
is alluring

to cheat is simple,
to lie is easier,
and to run away,
now that, that comes
quicker than breathing

i'm practiced
in the art
of being a
girl who just
doesn't give
a flying ****

or maybe it's the
fact that i can
paint a pretty mask
and don it for all
eternity

and when they
lay me down
to rest
my youngest
grand daughter
will peer up
at me
and see a face
she never knew
cause the devil
doesn't want
nothing but the
naked truth

the stench of onions buries itself
underneath my finger nails
and no matter how hard i scrub
it lingers

earlier i chopped vegetables
haphazardly,
these days i do nothing with care,
hoping that one wrong stroke
will rip open an artery
and when they ask how i died
someone will say,
"she lost the fight with a bell pepper,"
as they try to fight the smirk
off of their quivering lips

and i'll be nothing but ashes
blowing with the wind
laughing at the fact
that my awkward ways are still
making others uncomfortable

we stood by the doors of the train
in the sticky heat that kept
me from wanting to sit
because i hate when my thighs
hold onto the plastic seats
like it's life or death

i stared into your irises
and noticed that they weren't
what i had always thought they were
in times when we were miles apart and
i had closed my lids tight and imagined
you staring back at me

a drunk man stumbled onto the train
and as we stood stagnant for
10, 15, 30, 45 minutes
he slammed and slurred about
public transportation and the *******
that just don't know how to do their jobs

you and i stood silently laughing,
and the happiness in our eyes
was all we needed

i hold onto pieces of time
like this and it's what keeps me breathing,
knowing that one day, i'll add to the archive

perhaps that's the hardest part,
the inability to make new memories together,
because in the end that's all a relationship truly is
and that's everything a relationship truly is

pen, paper, phones, computers, smoke signals, homing pigeons, bike messengers, telegrams, postcards,
none of them are you

i thought of you earlier
and the way that you rip my breath
right out of my lungs, up through my chest,
then my throat, and finally out of my mouth
and into your own

and as you breathe me in
i know that one taste is all you need
and you can read me like i'm some kind of
page ripped out of a well loved book

you've got shards of my soul
locked up within your own
and i can't help but look
into the depths of the bottomless pits
that reside heavy set in your face
with a relentless stare that i won't soon break

wordless communication

because we're all just animals
and the words that fall out of our mouths
haphazardly onto the laps of one another,
like heavy bricks falling from the top floor of a building,
are simply clattering noise to break the silence
that most of us cannot endure

i'm screaming fix it at the top of my lungs
and i'm inches from your sweaty forehead
and your eyes are the color of a sky
that's too pale, like someone's been stealing
the pigment one drop at a time

when you're unsure or sad or disturbed
they look down at the worn concrete
littered with cigarette butts and footprints
of drunken idiots just like us, not into my own

and we're sitting outside of the place
we all call home, where the ***** is too
cheap and the faces are all familiar
so much so that they start to blur
no matter if you're on your fourth, seventh, or twelfth

you're telling me the blame is
not going to fall on my shoulders,
but i feel it rain down like tiny pebbles
all pooling between bone and skin to
create one giant boulder inside of my chest

and perhaps it's because i know the words
that snake their way from your lips to my ears
will soon be covered in slime
from the regurgitation they will undergo
as they are repeated, perhaps with more conviction
the second time around,
but to another set of ears

it's interesting that as a woman i have
never felt more like an object than right now,
and it's at your hands, the man who promised
to never let anything compromise
the bond that tethered us together
through early afternoon games of catch, bowl smoking
before class, and long talks that left us out of breath

it seems you've erased who i really am in your
mind and replaced her with a giant
cardboard cut out - thinner, taller, more beautiful,
and much more compelling to stake claim over

in a world
where we
all crave to be
understood,
but different
and complex,
all at once
i was left
feeling as if
i were in
a cat's cradle -
undeniably
wrapped and tangled
around myself

for many moons
i tried to
believe
that it was me
and my lack
of an explanation
that could not
be translated
to the language
you had begun
to speak
that was quite
different
from my
native tongue,
but i began
to realize
that speech
had nothing to
do with it,
and it was
your refusal
to open your eyes
fully and drink in
all that i had
laid out
before you

i contemplated
myself often
and the idea
of change
flitted around
inside of my skull
like birds trapped
in a cage -
i knew i had to
set them free

it's been said to me
and i've said it
to myself,
i will find the one
who wears no
blinders,
who speaks my
language,
who wants me
fully

i will find that one
in due time,
when the timing
seems wrong
and i haven't
the time,
he will show up
and drink me
in and fill
himself completely,
and snip away
the strings
that have rendered
me useless
when it comes to love