i am working very hard at being noticed.
long streaks of eyeliner keep my paper white face from slipping into 21 year old patterns
that i often see on my walks
skinny jeans give my body permanence
new, high-heeled sneakers
walk me back to flesh and bone:
the stains on my lips remind me to exist.

i am falling behind
blending in
fading away
from over-exposure
i must find new ways
to darken my frame
define my lines
make me easier to see
if you look at me
then i exist

i exist

i exist

i exist

You said that satire is not your favorite flavor ice cream
well sweetheart that is too **** bad
the broken clock on my wall
is right more than you’d think
and this broken record may make you seasick
but I wouldn’t trade it for all the pretty girl smiles in the world
you said I dress like a poor man when really I’m a smiling white faced teen
well you dress like one of my wet dreams
so who’s really winning?
so my lines are played out? Washed up? Dried up? Flat?
So my howl is more of a yawn? My leaves of grass more like turf?
well crucify me to your canvas little miss art
I look good in red and blue
you said I take things too personally
or not at all
you said that apathy isn’t really that attractive
well neither is *******, but somehow you pull it off
you said you think we’ve still got a few weeks of winter left
so how come I can feel the clouds beginning to break over head?
you’re right. I am wrong. You are wrong. I am wrong. You are right.
would you pass me the ashtray please
I think I may have gotten ahead of myself
this headache is too large for advil to tame
and my throat is itching again
so, just for a while, I think I’m going to put you on hold

i wonder today
as i walk down the street
if someone
will yell at me.

something like
"does the carpet match the drapes?"
"want a ride?"
"nice ***"
"you're just my size"
"hey ginger"

red in the head
good in bed
they say

i am glad the pictures here are in black and white.

it was just march first
you kissed my smile good morning
spring, without warning

Pure raw cane sugar
flows through my veins,
I am a reservoir
of warm vanilla cream
& you, you with
your tender chocolate kisses,
a mouthful of
pretty sweet teeth,
doth drive me insane.
I surrender!

It's times like these
that make me want
to scream at everyone,
especially at those
who don't deserve it:
they cannot know
how I feel right now,
so **** them the most.

After not sleeping well at all
due to a particularly nasty toothache
for seven days in a row,
I finally got a good night's sleep last night,
but, of course there had to be a problem:
I overslept for work
because the pain
was so subdued.

I didn't even have a chance
to have painkillers for breakfast,
as was necessary
the other days this week.

So, when I got to work,
I immediately caught flak
for being so tardy,
all the while being unable to focus
on anything but all this ******* pain.

I never thought I'd say this,
but I understand, now,
why the notion of Suicide
can be so seductive;
not that I seek it,
but that I commiserate
with they, who do.

I cannot recall
being in this quality of pain
for this quantity of time,
and all the dentists are booked until Tuesday.

i'm patiently waiting for the first breath
of lukewarm air to my swollen lungs
that heave to the sound of crickets chirping
and fire burning
i'm abandoning my frozen corpse
that lays here in purgatory
to let in a light
that pumps clean blood and fresh air
so that i'm no longer forced
to breathe for a life that i don't want to live