If you ever feel sad,
Look down at the belly of your wrist.

Kiss the veins
That pulse and jump underneath your skin.

Remember that no matter what you do
Your blood will always flow.

Your body loves you,
Love your body.

Placing holy water on our wrists like perfume.
Locking ourselves in chapels,
Forgetting the reason for churches.
Do you remember the day
You carved a crucifix into my forehead?
Used the ashes of Christ as a band aid?
The Holy Spirit guided your numb limbs like
An ungodly puppeteer.

The almighty father smiles sadly.
He takes me in his arms,
Says, “My child, I am not sorry.”

I need to learn how to finish projects,
How to breathe without wheezing.
But its so hard
When ideas are shooting around your brain
Like semi colon sized bullets
And the gun powder forms a smoke screen
And its starting to choke me.
I’m coughing up black.
I’m sorry I can’t be better.
I’m sorry I never learned how to be okay.

I am teeth,
He is fist.
I am the scabs on his knuckles,
The salt dripping from his lip.
He is strong, humble.
The type of boy your mother
Wants for herself.

My eyes are gray-blue,
Almost like fog.
He asked me if I could see through them.
I said “no.”
He asked again.
I said “no.”
He asked again.
I said “I can see you.”

His eyes are brown,
Or at least that’s what I imagined.
Maybe they’re blue too.
Maybe we have that in common.
I’ve never looked at him long enough to tell.

He is action,
I am script.
He is the character,
I am just the traits.

He is fist,
I am teeth.
He keeps his hands at his side.
He knows when to put them up.
He outlines my edges.
He needs someone who can open their arms.
I can only open my jaw.
He needs another fist.
I need myself.
A body needs two fists
But only one set of teeth.
We just don’t fit together.

My eyes are gray-blue.
My eyes are fog.
I can’t see through them.
I can’t see him
And I’m beginning to think thats a good thing.

His eyes aren’t brown.
They aren’t mud.
They’re diamonds encrusted in red sockets.
I should feel honored
He tore them out and
Offered them to me on a ring.
I only feel sick.

He is a text message at 3am.
He is “I hope she’s not asleep, its only 3am.”
I am still awake at 3am.
I am “why is he texting me at 3am.”

I am teeth,
He is fist.
I am gnash and snarl and bark.
I am a last resort.
He is broken nose and black eye,
He is bruise and scar.
I am machine,
He is tool.
I am teeth and he is fist
And we were never meant to intersect.

Life was already hard enough
Without you breathing down my neck.
You’re too close for comfort
And it makes me feel like I’m a bomb,
All wires and flashing lights.
You have hooked up explosives in my ribcage
And I’m ready to blow.

You feel like an anchor
Chained around my ankles.
You’re pulling me under.
No one told you I was hydrophobic.

When you embrace me
Your hands miss my waist and
Lock around my throat.

I can’t breathe with you standing at my door.
I didn’t want it to be this way
But you’ve forced your way in.
Like centipedes in the winter,
Like a butterfly tearing its way out of the cocoon.

You want this to be something beautiful
You want me to be more than a dream.
But I can’t let that happen.
I won’t let that happen.

I am thin wisps of smoke.
I am fog.
You can’t trap me in a jar.

Sometimes when I write
I feel like I’m speeding through a tunnel.
The air slicks back my hair
And the wind makes my eyes water
And for once these aren’t sad tears.
When I unzip myself
And step out onto the page
I feel eternal.

Sometimes when I write
My mind feels like a ball of yarn all tangled.
I can’t make out the words
But I know the right ones are there.

Suddenly the words are gone.
They’ve dried up on my tongue.
I can still taste the decay.
They jumped off the train before they
Passed through my fingertips.

My best friend is a writer too.
She reads lines of her poems to me
And I feel deflated.
Not even my words want to stay with me.

Tongues tied into knots
Like cherry stems.
Sweetness exploding,
Creating a big bang of flavor.
He said I taste like green apple candies,
Smell like coconut chocolates.
Lavender icing coating my lips
As if it were meant to be lipstick.
Sunflower seeds for teeth.
Slit my wrists
And call it strawberry syrup.

Teeth lining up around houses,
Whiter and brighter than
The magnesium burning in the fireplace.
He tells me about his dreams.
About gaping maws
Glistening and whispering.
Flute songs echoing until his ears cave in.
A mountain of tree limbs
Twisting like claws.
The dog barks too loudly.
The baby cries.
He tells me about the married life.

The world is so big
And I am so small.
A speck of dust lost in the stars.
Not good enough to be called stardust.
They build monuments for kings
So tall they battle planets.
War generals rewarded with medals and memorials.
We strive for remembrance
But the world is so big
And I am so small.

It’s been a year
And I still don’t know how to feel.
Sometimes I feel elated.
Out of all the girls,
All the plums,
I was the ripest, the juiciest.
I spread across his tongue
As a smile spread across his lips.

Sometimes I feel empty.
Like he had
Taken away a part of me.
A certain innocence
So rare, so valuable, so hidden
Not even the best criminals
Could steal it back.

Sometimes I feel fragile.
My bones replaced by porcelain.
They forgot to wrap me
In bubblewrap.
They forgot the
Handle with care sign.
I shattered at his feet.
I crunched under his boots.

Sometimes I feel depressed.
Any light I had
Has darkened.
Any fire has
Been snuffed out.
I am nothing more than smoke.

Sometimes I feel tired.
Like it takes too much energy to live.
I’m not strong enough
To live.
To push through.
My organs are too heavy.
I am too heavy.

Sometimes I feel happy.
When I forget about that night.
When I forget about the bedroom floor.
The popcorn bowl.
The army of whispers
Assaulting my ears.
When I’m alone with a book
Full of poems.
When I shed this skin,
The one with burn marks and
Moth holes,
I’m happy.

You push your fist into your mouth,
Bite down on your knuckles.
Your teeth glued
To your tongue.
Taste the salt of your blood.
Jaw ******* shut.
You swallow your
"No's"
"Stop's"
"Don't touch me's"
"Leave's".
You swallow your voice.
He gnawed on you.
Nothing more than a dog's bone.
The squeak in your chest burst.
You're just saliva
Hanging off his jowls.

A post apocalyptic tongue
Weighing heavy and dormant in your mouth
As you hitchhike south,
Stopping only to say hello to the
Forget-me-nots
On the side of the road.
Your lips are chapped, dry.
One bite away from blood.
Your blonde hair snarls and snaps
Around your finger.
A Venus fly trap.
You are Venus.
A beautiful weapon of mass destruction.
You can start wars
With a face like that.
You spread your legs for
Boys who smell of wine.
You spread your legs for
Men with wallets fatter than their bellies.
You spread your legs for
Yourself because it feels good.
They brand you a sinner.
Construct a neon sign and
Point it at you.
You forget
Girls don’t do that.
And girls don’t drink
And girls don’t smoke
And girls don’t curse or kick or fight
Or hitchhike south
Or embrace their beauty
Or say hello to the forget-me-nots
On the side of the road
Or stumble home,
Wherever home is,
Drunk and reeking of
Cigarettes and ***** with
Last night’s lover still in their hair.
But you are not a girl.
You are Venus
And you are dangerous.
A bouquet of cries for help.
You sit in diners
With strangers and speak loudly of
Of rashes and scars.
You sit in ivory towers,
Knitting dresses and scratching
At the stone.
You stand on the sidelines
And snap your gum.
They tell you you can’t.
Your voice stings their eardrums.
Your voice is a thunderstorm.
You are a thunderstorm.
You are hitchhiking south with a
Hand full of forget-me-nots and
Blood rolling down your chin.
You are not a girl.
You are Venus.

Cranberries** drip juice like
Blood. I squeeze them between my
Teeth, like a guillotine.
Unrequited love in the form of
Stretch marks on my thighs. My dog
Collar is starting to choke me.
Glass litters the floor to the
Trophy room. He says I am a
Charity case. No one wants me. Point me in a new
Direction. I am running out of
Time. I am running out of patience. The ground
Shakes as I reach for the front door to my childhood
Home. I want to go home.
Hunger never felt so good.

Rubber** marks on my back and
Salt bleeding through my teeth.
Craters in my skin from your
Tongue scorching my flesh. I
Clench my knees together. I'm
Grasping for your hand in the dark. You are
Angrywith me for spilling
Ink all over the leather seats in your car. You don't think I'm
Sane. My lips are
Blueand my
Smile is a myth. I've never
Felt so
Tired. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm
Done.

When you're 15
With a spotted face of acne
And a wild mane of curly hair
And boy who is two years older
And can drive
Tells you you are beautiful
You will let him touch you

When you're 15
And his fingers curl up your sides
Like spiders
You'll want to *****
But you will swallow the toxic insides
Of your stomach
And smile
He thinks you're beautiful

When you're 15
And its a week later
And you feel like something
Is dying inside of you
You won't tell anybody
This secret will die
With the thing inside of you
Remember, he thought you were beautiful

When you're 15
Your friends will invite you to a party
Where you'll take up cigarettes
You'll bite down on your tongue
And lock yourself in the bathroom
When they mention
The boy who thought you were beautiful

When you're 16
And you finally forget about
The boy who thought you were beautiful
A new boy will come along
He will think you're special

When you're 16
You will go to your first Homecoming dance
You will feel like you are
Drowning in your dress
Like you are choking on your perfume
And everyone's breath
But he will look at you
Like you are special

When you're 16
And he tells you
He likes you because no one notices
You are there
No one looks twice at you
You will realize
He never really thought you were special

When you're 16
And it's been over a year since
The boy who thought you were beautiful
Talked about you
Like you were meat
And two months
Since the boy who thought you were special
Has spoken to you
You will crush your cigarettes under your boot
Smash Mike's Hard Lemonade bottles
On the edges of the kitchen table
Open your wrists for the first time
In four years
Wake up in the morning
Covered in cat hair and pen marks

When you're 17
You will write a poem
A poem you'll only let strangers read

Don't date geek boys
They will compare you to movie characters
You can never live up to
Try to kiss you
With a tongue made of dust
And pick apart your poetry
Pointing out every spelling mistake

Don't date sad boys
They will call you up
Drunk at 3am on school nights
They'll tell you about other girls
And blame it on you

Don't date rich boys
They'll crawl inside your bones
Make you heavy with regret
You won't be able to forget about them
Until it is a year later
And you see him drive past you
While you walk home from school
And you realize
He hadn't made an appearance
Since the night
They buried you

Don't date boys who smoke cigarettes
Every time your father
Bites down on the filter and
Strikes a match
You will see him
And run for the hills

Don't date boys who can sing
They'll whisper your favorite songs
To you in a voice
As smooth as ice
As warm as summer
A voice made for seraphs
When you try to listen to those songs without him
There will be a snow storm
In your heart

Don't date boys with razor blades for teeth
Boys who breathe fire
Who feed on flesh
And gorge themselves on girls' bleeding hearts

Or better yet
Don't date anyone at all

Boys don't like girls like me

Boys don't like girls
With frizzy hair
And red velvet tongues

Boys don't like girls
Who wear heavy boots
And leather jackets a size too big
With pins pushed through the fabric
Declaring their beliefs
Like picket signs

Boys don't like girls
With outie belly buttons

Boys don't like girls
Who shop in the men's section
At thrift stores

Boys don't like girls
Who shut themselves in ivory towers
And refuse to let down their hair
Because they're too afraid

Boys don't like girls
Who talk to plants

Boys don't like girls
Who pick the pickles off
Of their cheeseburger because
They believe its the best part
And you always save the best for last

Boys don't like girls
Who carry trauma on their backs like boulders

Boys don't like girls
Who don't know how to kiss
Without leaving
Blood stains on your lips

Boys don't like girls
Who write love poems for themselves

Who practice archery and witchcraft
Because it makes them feel stronger

Who dance in their kitchen
To the music of popping popcorn

Who shy away from touch
Because to them it feels like acid

Who have stretch marks and cellulite

Who'd rather stay at home with the dog
Than go to that party

Who have ice in their soul

Boys don't like girls like me
And I'm trying to be ok with that

All the pretty girls wear Doc Martens
And chew bubble gum.
All the pretty girls bite their bottom lips,
Kiss boys with blood
Rolling down their chins.
All the pretty girls wraps themselves up
In apologies meant for their mothers.
Pretty girls are heard, not seen.
Pretty girls forget their favorite poems
As they snort lines of *******
In their boyfriends bathroom.
Pretty girls handcuff themselves
To headboards of beds
In a desperate attempt to stop
Biting their nails.
Pretty girls complain about wolves
Howling in their heads.
Pretty girls want to be like
Other pretty girls.

You are a poem.
I am the pen that slashes the page.
I am the blade biting into skin.
You are the scar.
You are 8am phone calls.
I am 3pm slumbers.
You are a stake.
I am the flames,
The witch burning beneath them.
I am an unfinished story.
You are an encyclopedia.
I highlight every word.
Together we are a dictionary.
No one touches us.
I am a garden of only weeds.
You are the thorns on a rose.
I am crushed daisy petals
Laying at your feet.
I love you.
I love you not.
You are the stray wire
In my favorite bra
Stabbing my breast.
You are the sun warming my cheeks
With a careful caress.
You are a poem.
I am the pen.

They pulled me out of the wreckage
My tattered frame
Indistinguishable amongst the
Broken car parts
My mangled body bruised
Bones bent in half
The scent of blood mixed with
The scent of fire mixed with
The scent of rubber
I wore it like perfume
They pulled me out of the wreckage
Like they pulled me out of the womb

I wrote a poem about Ritalin
Though I've never tried it

I wrote a poem about my bed
Turning into an island
About my floor melting into sea water
And my ceiling light
Turning into the sun

I wrote a poem about a cigarette
All the best poets smoke
Death in itself is poetic

I wrote a poem about *****
It has been two years since I've felt
The familiar feel
Of bile climb up my throat
And meet my toilet bowl

I wrote a poem about voodoo dolls
And how the pins
Push through fabric
And how I wish it was flesh

I wrote a poem about cramps
I can physically feel my ****** tearing
Its way out of my body
With each contraction
I mark another tally on the chalkboard

I wrote a poem about bullets
Opening skin
Unzipping foreheads

I wrote a poem about teeth
Teeth falling out
Teeth growing in
Teeth twisting in gums

I wrote a poem about pain
And how my tolerance is so high
I've died seven times
And hardly noticed

I wrote a poem about blood
They say blood holds bad spirits
And I want to let them free
Please let them free

I wrote a poem about death
As cliche as it sounds
Everyone tells me to stop
Stop talking
Stop writing
My fascination with the end
Isn't healthy

I wrote a poem hospitals
Filled with diseases
Worse than my own
I feel the guilt clawing at my stomach
I feel the spirits thrash

I wrote a poem about nothing
Because thats all I am

They say I’m darkness
Scowl carved into marble face
Blue veins twisting in wrists
Rainy day eyes
And fingers made for pianos and cigarettes

They say I’m misery
Black clothing on pale skin
Nails filed into knives
Lip caught between teeth
Family vacations in cemeteries

He said I’m not the type of girl people look twice at
Forgettable like a forest fire
Beautiful like a dead baby bird
He was trying to be romantic

They say I’m lonely
Poor girl
Always alone
Smile and join us
We need a charity project

They say I’m pity
Brows perpetually furrowed
Lungs perpetually constricting
Sweaty palms glued to walls
They have the nerve to fee sorry for me

Someone once told me
I looked like a tornado
Ripping through the hallways at school
A natural disaster
Racking up a body count
I wonder how many people I’ve made cry

They say I’m intimidation
This noose around my neck scares them
A fashion statement
With my fangs bared and a stare that can ****
I walk

They say I’m music
The sound of high heels on pavement
A broken string on a violin
An angel that was never taught
How to play the harp
Shattered halo at its feet

They say I’m pain
Menstrual cramps squeezing the life out
Of a thirteen year old girl
Blood on underwear
Blood under fingernails
Blood running down thighs

They say I am blood
A gory mess
Scars like tattoos
Scrapped knees like badges

They say I’m darkness
A shadow
Engulfing the world
They need me
To appreciate the light

1
Stop biting your lip
Your blood is meant to stay
In your body
And carry oxygen
And kiss your bones
It has no place on your tongue

2
Breathe
1 2 3
Breathe
Don’t be afraid to let
Your lungs expand
Don’t be afraid to calm
Your nerves
Pop a Xanax and you’ll be fine
You’ll always be fine

3
When you feel the gut pulling
Desire to kiss a boy
Kiss him
Kiss him before he realizes
What a mess you are
Kiss him
And then break his legs
Remind him you are a tornado
Wrapped in skin
And your kiss
Just blew him away

4
Always fall in love
With strangers
Lose yourself in fantasies
Featuring the people on the bus
Or in the mall
Smile at them so they know
They’re infiltrating
Your dreams

5
When a guy catcalls you
Kick him in the teeth
Show him the hair on your legs
Shove your emergency ******
Down his throat
Say no
You are not a dog
You are not a prize
You are a goddess clad in
A leather jacket and
Motorcycle boots
And goddesses do not accept
Catcalls

6
Wrap yourself in poems
Hold them close to your heart
Hide them in your pockets
Let them spill out
Of your mouth
In times of stress
You never know when you’ll need them

7
Never wish for tragedy
Just so you can have a reason
To be sad

8
When the poetry stops working
Go to therapy
Follow the advice
You’ve given to so many
Other people

9
Swallow that lump in your throat
Let it dissolve
In your stomach acid
You will not cry
You will not break

10
When the boy with
The beautiful smile and the
Even more beautiful voice
Looks at you for the first time
The world will stop
You will only know his eyes
When they pass over you
To the prettier ******* your right
Do not take offense
Your time will come

My wrists bleed out cosmos
Supernovas and galaxies
Rest in my bones
I’m weighed down by black holes
My scars connect
Like constellations
Mapping out myths on my skin
I have comets
For eyes
And space debris
For a heart
Gravity has long let me go
Now I float
In an empty outer space

His hair curled around my fingers
Soft brown hooks
Catching me off guard
And reeling me in

I can’t remember the color of his eyes
Were they blue
Like the sky just before sunset bleeds?
Were they green
Like the stretches of pastures on the countryside?
Were they brown
Like the heels of my boot?

His smile is permanently
Stuck in my brain
I’ve always adored other people’s smiles
But his shined brighter
Than Orion’s Belt

His laugh still sounds
In my ears
Its like the music that erupts from
His fingertips
He was laughing at his own joke

He was only a dream
An image coughed up by my
Unforgiving subconscious
I dreamt he loved me
But it was only a false alarm

I’m a creature of habit
I’m a chameleon that only blends
Into one scene
A horse with blinders on either
Side of my face
Throw me off my orbit
And we’re all ******

I say “tomato”
You say “toe-mah-toe”
I say “I want to pierce my nose”
You say “don’t you dare scare that ivory skin”
I say “ I want to be a poet”
You say “but that doesn’t make much income”
I say “I am never having a baby”
You say “you’ll meet a nice man, settle down, and change your mind”
I wear this silver pentacle
Around my throat like a noose
String me up and hang me
Like my sisters from Salem
Condemn me because I don’t fit
In the box labeled “Christian” on your questionnaire
Call me a ****** for finding the beauty in another woman’s curve
Brand me a ***** just for existing
Pull at my heartstrings
Like a puppeteer
Guide my every movement
Cut out my vocal cords and replace them with yours
After all, you know best right
If I dye my hair a color that isn’t
Blonde, black, or brunette
I’ll never land a job
If I don’t quit with this feminist ****
No man will ever want me
You’re only looking out for me right
If you know so much about me
Tell me who I am
Tell me how I felt when I was thirteen
And stealing my brother’s straightedge
To carve Jack-O-Lantern faces into my upper thighs
Tell me how I felt when my mother
Grabbed my cheeks and told me
To pop my pimples
When she asked me if I ever wanted to be beautiful
As if I wasn’t already
Tell me how I felt when I sat across my sister
In a mental hospital
After she gorged herself on unknown pills
And she said
“Don’t ever die. Dying isn’t fun”
Tell me how I felt when my parents
Showered me in gifts
After I finally told them I was depressed
Like they were trying to buy back my happiness
Tell me how I felt when the boy
With the beautiful smile and cigarette stained breath
Stuck his hand into my *******
And whispered
“You know you want it”
Tell me how I felt when my body froze with fear
When early onset rigor mortis snaked through my muscles
When I clamped my knees together
And denied him access to my body
Tell me how I felt when
He pushed his blushing appendage into my mouth
After I said no
And how I felt when I kept my lips sealed
How I let him get away with it
If you are such an expert on my landscape
Pinpoint all my scars and beauty marks and moles
Locate all the intimate areas my fingertips explored
Tell me how often I shave my legs
Tell me how much pride I feel when I remember to put on deodorant in the morning
Draw a map of all my
Forests, canyons, and lakes
Prove to me you really know me
Prove that you’re really looking out for me
Prove your advice
And remember
No good deed goes unpunished
And if you still maintain that you know what's best
Look me in the eyes
And tell me who I am

Am I walking on eggshells
Or am I walking on coals?
Are these shards of glass
Wedged into the belly of my foot
Or are these pebbles
That snuck into my shoes
On that one day we
Went to the lake?
The soles of my soul
Have worn away
Leaving black skid marks
On my heels
And blisters on my toes
All because you walk in a run
And I run in a walk
And i just can’t keep up

I’ve always been afraid
From the moment
They cut me out of
My poor mother’s stomach
Fear has gripped me
With sharp talons
I came into this world crying
And those tears
Have followed me through life

I have panic disorder
Or at least that’s what the internet says
I fear the day I will be forced
To write poetry
On the back of
Prescriptions
The day I start popping pills
Like candy
Just relieve the stress

I don’t want to smile
With a capsule
Between my teeth
Or let my bloodstream run toxic
But at the same time
I don’t want
My heart to drum
Like my nerves are going to war
And I don’t want to leave the house
Crying

I can practically feel the pill
At the back of my throat
I can feel myself choking
The bitterness turning sweet
As the bile
Rushes to meet my taste buds

Sometimes it feels like
I’m training for battle
Like I’m preparing myself
For bullets of Xanax
And Prozac
I don’t even know what a milligram is

I hear it can result
In memory loss
And bleeding gums
And whether or not these are
Urban legends
I don’t know

I’ve watched
Both my brother and sister
Ingest medication
To chase away the depression
I’ve watched my friends
Swallow sleeping pills
To quiet their thoughts

I wonder how can they do it?
How can they just
Open themselves up to sedation?
Allow themselves to
Let go of the familiar
Sadness and fear

Maybe it’s not that
I’m afraid of the pill
But that I’m more afraid
Of the absence of fear
The dark abyss of numbness
I’ve seen medication
Ruin lives

I don’t want to be another statistic
Another number on paper
I don’t want doctors
Going in and out of my head
As if they were old friends

I just want this
To stop

Out of all the gin joints
Classrooms
Bedrooms
Ballrooms
Hospitals
Temples
Minds
Spir­its
Hearts
You had to walk into mine

I do this thing
Where I shut everyone out
And then wonder why I’m alone
I do this thing
Where I take my heart strings
And use them to
Sew my mouth shut
I do this thing
Where I write poems on my wrists
Because I can’t bear to cut
I do this thing
Where I force headaches
To crush my skull
Into oblivion
I do this thing
Where I don’t do
Anything

My mother gave birth to a carcass
A corpse who
Ages and grows
But does not breathe
Because the dead can't breathe

I am rotting from the inside out
First my heart will go
It will blacken and crust over
Become the stone that sits in my belly
And pulls me under
Then my tongue and teeth
They will fall out
And fill bathtubs
Blood will come trickling after
Then finally
My lungs will collapse
Like a crystal chandelier
In an abandoned opera house

I will cradle the broken pieces of myself
And I will cry
Because only my eyes seem to work
I will open my mouth
And try to breathe
And only dust will escape me

He asked
"Are you afraid to die?"
And I just
Shook my head no
I'm afraid of people
Forgetting me
And of getting my tongue
Chopped off while I'm asleep
But I'm not afraid to die
He asked
"Do you believe in God?"
And I just
Shook my head no
I believe in the
Kindness of strangers
And in the ghosts
That haunt my attic
But I don't believe in God
He said
"You must be crazy."
And I just
Shook my head no
And watched him flounder
In his fear and faith

I’m not a talkative person
In fact I have sewn my mouth shut
To keep my thoughts
From spilling out
With the force of a fire hydrant
When I do talk
It’s in mumbles and murmurs
I let my words run together
I don’t even remember the last time
I finished a real sentence

Poetry runs through my veins
Every night I unzip my forearms
And let my blood
Spill out onto paper
I’m sorry I can’t bleed for you

I’m selfish
I take, take, take, and take
I buy myself Christmas presents
Birthday presents
Because I ******* deserve it presents

Grace never came easy to me
I stumble over my shoelaces
Like I stumble over my words
Thank god none of you have a pet fish
Because I would probably
Break the bowl

Cigarettes
I don’t smoke them
But **** do I find them attractive

I think bruises are beautiful
Purple, blue, and black splotches
On pale skin
Soreness when you press your fingers
Into them
Give me bruises
And I’ll give you kisses

Your eardrums can and will shatter
Under my screeches of rage
I don’t always scream
But when I do
I turn into a ******* demon

I wear granny ******* casually
Because being comfortable
Is more important
Than being ****

Every bouquet you give me
I will keep
Until they are petal-less
And brown
They will sit in a vase
And decay
And I will use the scent
As perfume

I have a skinny waist
But fat thighs
I’m a size nine
Please don’t buy me size three jeans

Most people’s voices change
With puberty
My voice changes depending
On who I’m with
When I’m with you
My voice is deep with a sarcastic tint
When I’m with your parents
I sound like a ten year old boy

I have a cranberry juice addiction
That’s getting out of hand

Sometimes I break under
Magnifying glasses
My heart drums behind my ribs
There’s a reason why
They call it a cage

I’ve read Catcher in the Rye
Five times and I still
Hate Holden Caulfield

A good day for me
Is finding socks
Without holes in them

I don’t plan on being
A mother
I can’t give you
An heir

My heart explodes
Regenerates
Explodes
Regenerates
Explodes
Explodes
Explodes
Regenerates

I love myself more
Than I could ever love anyone else
And I’ve yet to find someone
Who understands that

We judge people
Who judge people
Because judging people
Is wrong
And we **** people
Who **** people
Because killing people is wrong
And yet we do not
Cry for those who are sad
And we do not
Smile for those who are happy
Instead we remain
In our private prisons
Until something more
Exciting happens

Take these silver threads
Of memories
And weave them
Into tapestries
Hang them on stone walls
In forgotten castles
So they can rot
In a place
Besides my brain

Blood sloshes around
In blue veins
Pressed up against my skin
Open me
Unbutton my wrists
Let the winter air in

I come from
Bleeding gums
Skinny arms
And ketchup smothered chicken
From dyed blue hair
And chipped black nail polish
From
"There’s no use crying over spilt milk"
And
"You’re not the first person to fail history"
I come from
Cracked bathtubs
Cracked skulls
Crooked teeth
Oversized sweaters
Overly sweetened tea
From diabetes
Breast cancer
And depression
I come from black heads
And pimples
Frizzy hair
Half filled journals
Half empty coffee cups
Purple lipstick
Scars from dropping the oven mitt
Seared flesh on wrists
I come from
Cigarette smoke curling under summer skies
From fake fire places
Freshly baked cookies
Poetry in the form of blood cells
From mental hospital stays
From blinding headaches
That vibrate through teeth
I come from
Pentacle necklaces
And pearl bracelets
Apple perfume
New York City visits
I come from
Trees
And grass
And flowers
I come from the beach
From salty air
And sandy toes
I come from everywhere
And I’m going nowhere

I’ve always been
A sensitive person
Say one word and
I shatter
I’m made of porcelain
And glass
There are cracks
In my armor
That match
The cracks in my nails
Please don’t break me