My door frame is easy to break

it bends in half,

if you blow on it

and there’s left over gum

in the cracks

from all of the ***** mouths

of people who tried

to blow my house in

(it’s probably because so many have gone

that allows for so many to come)



If the walls have any color,

please let me know



When you get inside you’ll see the floor

covered in thumbtacks

that have fallen

from the memories that were once pinned

to my walls

but have since blown away

by the same breaths that had blown in my door

(I wish I had the heart

to pin them

back up)



If the walls have any color,

please let me know



If you manage your way into my kitchen

you’ll find

tea bags

and charred kettles

that I used to burn my words

when my mouth got too hot

(I always mess things up when I speak)



If the walls have any color,

please let me know



Please excuse the honey

smeared to my furniture

it was used to make guests stick

who were anxious to leave

from the moment they arrived

(I think the scent of insecurity

wrapped in lavender oil

sickened them)

When fuming,

after the guests turn away

I gag myself

into my pink toilet bowel

to allow the memories,

that have rotted in my gut,

to roll out on to

my

tea stained tongue

So please use the bathroom upstairs



If the walls have any color,

please let me know



I do not live there anymore

I had to run away again,

to get away from these rooms

that once cradled my innocence

(the frame has grown weak from carrying such burdens)



If the walls have any color,

please let me know



you’ll find me underneath the floor boards

I want to be the moon

and disappear

when everything becomes clear and confusing

in the light of the day

I want to be the moon

become the focal point of the sky

the only clarity in darkness

I want to be the moon

that is so distant that it becomes unobtainable

so even you couldn’t reach it

I want to be the moon

that sits over you and me

when we’re not thinking about each other

I turn over

and watch myself fall

and the sea is furious

I feel no desire to swim

much worse than drowning,

there is nothing you can do

and worse,

nothing you want to do

I realize then

as I choke



I often feel like I’m sinking when I am not near water at all.



but then I remember

he is the sea

and he’s silently calling

to hold me forever

and as the land slowly slips away,

a sharp impulse fills my body, my mind

I feel as though I must leap

for if I do not

I know for certain I will fall

and a star shoots by

and somewhere a girl is coughing up water



You
His shore
it’s not screaming, its quiet,

calm and still…

like how the sea must appear from a star

yet he

more radical than any ocean could ever be.


completely silent.

but never empty.

Michelle,

do not cry for anyone except yourself

do not cry for the dumb boys

with their hands in their pants

and their heads in the clouds

do not cry for them

because they do not have eyes

that could cry for you

Michelle,

do not cry for anyone except yourself

do not cry for the lonely girls

dancing in their rooms

and drowning in their boy friend’s spit

do not cry for them

because they will be fine in the morning

and so will you

so just keep ******* your honey packets

and be careful to not let disdain trickle out of your beehives

because it keeps getting you stung

by the bumbling boys attracted to it

but do not cry for them Michelle

because you are beautiful and brave

and you scare them

because they are not

Michelle,

do not cry for anyone except yourself

This is where it started,
on the basement floor

Everything felt colder and farther away than usual
I couldn't wrap my head around it

You could

And then it moved in to my closet
crept over there on Halloween night

I could hear you breathing heavily for days
I felt it on my neck

I never could shake that feeling

I was pleased once, on my bedroom floor
When I was in control
Thought I understood, something I just couldn't

But you were miserable on the backporch
with a cigarette in mouth

And you still are,

I was drinking chocolate milk.

Then,
in your car,
I didn't want you

or you
or you
or you.

In the pool I was drowning,
but that was my own fault.

I hate to swim.

And then that night I was lonely
and you were home.

But now.
I'm still lonely
and you won't leave me alone.

But you, you were nice.
You wanted to know about me.
And you were fine floating there.

But in August I didn't want you
and now we're both somewhere else.

And by the beach
I met you when I was confused
and it only made things worse.

Crumbling.

Entering college.
I hated myself.
And apparently so did you.

Sometimes I wonder how you are,
when I remember to wonder.

And on your dorm bed, you were nice.

And on his dorm bed, he wasn't.

I wish you didn't find humor in sick things
and eat all of my peanut butter.

Because we almost got along.

Then I fell for your accent
And your blonde hair--

..Oops

And in the bushes
Your friend was throwing up,
I tried to help.

Sorry I took it
but
you took my time.

And under the cold lights,
you were most similar to me
But only from a distance.

And in your room
I don't know why you happened.

But

I know why you did
because,
behind our looks,
were the same things,
waiting to creep out

from the ugly places we shoved them.

You were too tall to really see me.

And
You

You weren't the only one to see me at that show.

You said the complete opposite of what you meant
or maybe you changed your mind.

Either way,
I liked you better with your eyes on the ground.

On the elevator,
I just wanted you to shut up.

With paint on our faces,
Your art seemed more impressive from afar
Guess I got too close.

And you,
in the car,
in the diner,
in the field,
on the playground,
in the tree house,
on the deck,
in the passenger seat,
in my yard,
on the bench,
at the show,
by the stage,
in my arms,
in his backyard,
on the street,
in his kitchen,
on the hammock,
on my bed,
on my bed,
on my floor,
on my mind,
on my mind,
in your mind,
you're the only one.

the rest were to forget you.
on your couch,
on your roof,
on your bed,
on her bed.

and now there's only me,

some of me,
at least.

women, we sit weak and say nothing,

especially on the subways

I bleed the same colors as you,

under the same moon,

and that’s enough for me.

I was going to write a poem about you

and then I decided not to.

Everything I eat burns.
I must choke back lies,
swallow them whole.

And I feel guilt settling in the lining of my stomach,
for things I know not of.

But I know I am not well.

I can feel it in my flushed cheeks
and swollen belly.

I am pregnant with the feeling of misery and exhaust.
I am disgusted with myself.
And do not remember how to breath.

Every night,
each nightmare is a new one.

I am woken from my sleep,
the back of my throat burning,
my stomach retching.

I’ve been drinking oceans,
to set back these tiny fires.

I know no better way to put them out.

My dog scratches my face,
I wake up.

I am so tiny

I have never once loved because it was tangible,

I have loved because it wasn’t

And then, when I believed it was mine

I let it slip right through my fingers, hoping it will be cold





With warmth-

I would melt