Do you feel it?
Do you feel my rotting soul?
Do you even remember the tight skin
splitting at the seams when you looked
at it? I'm lying underneath the cold,
dark sheets with black lines shifting
beneath my surface which twist
themselves into a deep haze
and force my head under the water.
Your hands of ice trail and burn
their way across my mind and tear
their way through my ripped
paper body before I bolt upright
to the sound of your rattling breath
quickly fading into the slow night.

Where am I? It's like home
but it's so dark,
so dark and so empty.
I can still see the temporary tattoos
of your fingerprints on my flesh,
the nausea pooling within me,
my tense body screaming
for you to get away from me.
The way you heard another word
as my lips spelled out "No."
Now you sleep wondering
where you went wrong
and I lie awake wondering
what the hell gave you the right
to tear apart my flesh
with manipulative hands. I am only
half a woman.
The other half of my flesh
is swarming with searing
hot agony, agony which is quiet
and shows itself
in wild, trauma-worn eyes
and a drowning
heart. I should feel
angry but I only have vacancy,
and my mind is filled
with nothing except the dust
you left in my bones
once the cold, loveless
touch had left my body.

you throw me onto the bed
but i don't want to do this.
you caress my cheek,
say it's okay.

you nudge my legs open
but i don't want to do this.
you keep murmuring that it's okay,
and your fingers start roaming,
leaving a trail of tingles in places
i didn't know could feel like that.

your mouth crashes into my closed lips
and you don't hear when i say
i don't want to do this.

and the sad thing is—
it's not until you're done with me that you say
"i'm glad we did this."

What is ***?
Society paints it as an equation
***** plus ******
*******.
What is virginity?
A concept made up
To keep girls locked down
The breaking of the *****.
Then do lesbians have ***?
Are they still virgins?
Is their *** invalid?
No.
Oral counts.
******* counts.
**** counts.
*** is ***.
**** is ****.

I could wear red,
But you’d still touch me
Running past the signs
Like a self-entitled racecar;
Even yellow has you going
Revving up against me
Throwing caution in a bin,
When will you learn to read me?
I don’t need your tires
Skidding on my potholes,
Making a mess of marks on my body,
What could send a message?
Maybe orange?
Please do not speak to me
Construction up ahead,
Too busy fixing all the holes people left behind.
Or would you just run over the cones too?

There is a veil between your touch
and
my body.
You're there.
Here.
Present.
But, so is the veil that now divides
your touch
from
my skin.

It's not genuine.
You think it is but you are blind. 

The veil.
Can you see it?
I think of all of the ways that you tried your hand 
at pulling it down.
but
We're disconnected.
On two different pages and yet you felt we were singing the same song,
         We weren't.

Can you hear me?
The veil,
it's in the way.
Becoming a wall

And you could not hear me even if you listened. 
Numb to your touch
all stops in time.
Can you see this tear?
Is it that unclear?
Perhaps I have misunderstood.

The veil -
No, now
the wall is blocking you out 
You
cannot hear me and I should understand, right?
But the creator of this wall is none other than yourself.
A product of your power and my fear.
Yet
I do not want to upset you.
        You've upset me. 
So, run
away
like a mouse in the dead of night.
        Run,
because I can't.

4/12/17

She said she moved across the countrey to
Get away from her sister
They got a divorce and it was
Against her beleifs.
Against God.
I told her firmly
That i empathized
How it must be hard to move across
The world, to pack up everything
Just for your morals
She said she and her husbamd moved in with the ex husband her sister
And that the whole family besides herself
Supported her sister.
I said that must be hard.
Then when she loved me
Knew i understood.
I promptly told her i was polyamorous.
That my lover moved to ireland
To live with her husband
Packed up everything
And how hard that must be
and She did not flinch
I held her as she cried on my shoulder
She in the fifteen moments I saw her
Realized there is a whole world of differences
She can find comfort in when she is alone
She never once knew what I thought of her
Morals
How In my family we have divorce celevrations.
How ending is always a new beginning
How you can love amd still realize that a forever is going to make you miserable
Or never having a baby will **** you
Or being ***** every night is going to torture you
Even if the abuser is your own husband
I worry for her safety.
A woman who doesn't beleive in the word stop.
Doesn't consider leaving
Or letting go
I could never trust someome like that.
I would never be able to see them without feeling regret.
There is no words for the sorrow I place in that body of theirs.
And it is not my place to change it.
But I can tell them how happy i've been
Letting go someone I love, forever.
Not because We are unhappy.
Just because it was time for them to go.
Tell her how I still love them.
How i miss them every day, but it does not depress me.
It enlightens me.
Tell them of all my happy memories
libraty labrynth where she made me look her up with the dewey decimal system
Ice skating and backwards buttwiggles
Every time we stayed up late and I whispered that she existed.
Because even I wasn't convinced.
Now that she's left.
I'm still not.

But I will never forget either of them.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

my thoughts aren't clear,
my vision's getting hazy.

I swear I only had one drink,
how could this happen?

Where am I? Who are you?

my words are as hazy as my mind...
BUT I SWEAR I SAID NO.

could he not hear me?

I should have said it louder..

i'm so tired
please...stop.

everything's going dark.
what have I done?

i couldn't say no,




but does that mean i said yes?