my heart is a hurricane,
hysterical with emotion.
my stomach is clenched,
bracing against the feeling of
all the butterflies I've ever felt,
dead and decomposing among gastric acids.
but my face is calm,
and my breathing is steady.
and my body feels like it's
tearing apart at the difference.

i am not your toy.
i can not be stored away
in the dark and dust
till you decide you want to
play.

you tell me how much you care
just not like that
as you sift through the pools of
our discarded clothes.
you assure me it was all in fun
and of the good times we had
and maybe if i'm lucky
the good times i have to come.

you were out the door
before the pillow was cold.
and i was smoking the cig
you left me.
i finish up the tasks that were beyond you
and lay satisfied and sleepy
laughing at
your promise of attention later
if it worked out.

weeks passed
and one day
you storm
through
all **** and vinagar
cause you heard of good times
i found
on my own.

you throw all the old
sticks and stones
hooting and hollering
over so much spilt milk.

you never understood did you?
never really got a handle on the fact
that tied down means tied down
together
if you want to be free
then
you're free
and i'm free
and this free woman
acts accordingly.

i am not a toy
that can be stored away
in the dark and dust till
you decide
you want to
play.

and
i'm not sorry
not for a second.

i spend so much time biting my tongue
to keep from saying all the things i want to say
that i taste blood
every time i hear your name.

i'm plowing through the crowded plains
all yellow grass & open veins
& belly laughs at better days
because i finally made a clean escape.

& i can pack a MEAN suitcase
stuffed with photos of your ******* face
& i'll abandon you in every state
leaving a polaroid in every place:
an image for each bridge & lake
that gives me visions of your lips & legs.

& by the time i reach those western beaches
my bags have lost a lot of weight
& i've erased all ******* trace
of the comfort of your fake embrace.

I want everything and nothing at the same time.
Everything would cause conflict, but can't I have a feast without the stomach pains later?
Nothing would leave me wanting, but can't I have a famine without the hunger pains later?
     I want you, not her or him.
I want to cry and remember fear and pain.
     I want you to hold me.
I want to turn this around.
    
I'm slacking as the cold settles in, cutting me off from the rest of the world.
I'm dying as the truth settles in, slicing me open, bearing my soul to the world.

I hate it when I cant
Stop
Thinking
About what could be
What should be going on

I hate it when you do
That
Thing
You do. It tears
My emotions to shreds

I hate it when I my
Stomach
Flutters
Just for you
Everytime you’re around

I hate it when I long
For
Something
To change
When I know it really won’t

I hate it when you still
Act
So
Wonderful. Because
That’s just who you are

I hate it when I wait
Until
Nobody  
Wants you
But you know that’s impossible

I hate it when you
Show
Up
Everywhere I am
Because it makes me feel too great

I hate it when you don’t
Notice
One
Thing
Though that would hardly matter

I hate knowing all of this
But
Knowing
You
Know nothing of it at all

**** it away,
because you don't care,
because there's no title,
because there's no promise here.
brush it off quickly,
because it's okay,
because we mean nothing,
because we don't stay.
get over it,
because that's what you need,
because that's what I do,
because you learn from me.

I'm done with all of this.
I'm sick of never doing the right thing.
I'm done with hurting over this.
I'm sick of always wanting you here when you can't be.
When you won't be, when you don't want to be.
I don't want to see your face in my dreams,
and be haunted by it for days.
I'm done with craving your touch.

poetry is heart speaking
her deepest wisdom
or lightest whimsy
traditional form or free verse
let souls sing
sprinkle metaphor and simile
if you are a poet, write like one
words are music
let them breeze like a melody
color with mix-matched sensory
don’t stay inside the lines
see sounds with eyes closed
hear flickering of fireflies’ light
smell beauty in distant mountains
taste majesty of flowers’ bloom
touch forgiveness
bring personification to life
“she” is much sweeter than “it”
and a seat cushion may have a roundness to her
throw in some high speech
make someone grab a lexicon
delete those extra words
‘I’s and ‘the’s especially
alliteration can create cacophonic chorus
while similar sounds of assonance
tie hoards and scores of words together
although there are no rules
try your best to use poetry’s tools
with this above all else:
let your truth ring
let your insights and revelations
be a healing to self and reader
let experiences resonate in hearts
and harmonize voices