moment of weakness, of carelessness
a scintillating sparkling spark and then--
"****!"

it all gushes out,
you poke and touch and squeeze
more. more more. addicted.
red brushstrokes in its wake, like Monet
wave the finger around to strangers!!

someone tells you to wash it off
the blood dotting the silver band, the written pages of scribbled font
not the right time, not the right person.
so they say, so they scrub with soap
--i'm taking it all back.

it stings now, doesn't it?
the shame, humiliation mixed in.
can't even twitch without the hissing pain
war veteran or loveless child
lethe, oh, lethe.

brush away the wilted petals from time to time
fine, it only hurts when you remember how
but the scar lingers--will linger.
as a teenager longs for soft eyes,
i do for you.

My brain operates like my messaging skills
Typed out my heart.
Deleted every word.
Forgotten.

I suppose I should cling to what I feel
But the moment they surface they feel
Too unreal
So I delete them from my head
Watch them until they're dead
Forget that it's ok to feel

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******

forget the critics
the naysayers
the reviews

forget those who pounce
at first glance with
unsolicited feedback

forget those who wait
with serrated edges
for the unveiling
of your back

forget those who lambaste
and castrate your creativity

or worse, those who
try to help you
improve it

and then there are those who
uplift and support your work

say thank you
and
forget them
too.

forget about polishing the knobs
off the editors of poesy or
the literary brotherhood
and sisterhood

forget about your friends,
your enemies and
your audience
all together

they are a cough drop
trying to cure an illness

do it
the way it was meant to be done:
without obtrusion
without approval
without asking

don’t allow them
to cloud your mind
with judgment
of any kind

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******.

As you step into my world, forget the girl
I once was. here I'm a goddess. Here
I'm seen.
The bright lights shine on my face,
on my spirit. and fear leaves my body.
The music starts, possessing me.
i sway to the tune, melodies controlling
my movement.
From my smile, raw and genuine, a
song comes out: an old song.
it's a sad song.
a song of love.
it's a tragedy.
Watch me sing it anyway.
for past my glossy eyes,
my soul has never felt more alive.
but when you leave, forget what you've seen.
go back to knowing nothing about me.

sometimes,
late at night,
memories drizzle from our eyes
and roll down our cheeks.
unable to forget
no matter how much it hurts

what if we actually committed to our
pleasures
and engage in potent intrusive thoughts
what if i opened my head and let you hear
the whispers of my desires
would you listen?
i caress the right side of your face
pull myself into your pierced ears
and i tell you that im corrupted
through my veins isn't blood
i do not bleed red
i've bled out completely
ive bled out on others who didn't pierce me
with a blade
on other's who didn't cut me
and i tell you that
i've traveled hours from home
and attempted to grab my last breath
in a new city
I can never get away from myself

What if we became what we are so afraid to feel
let's lose any sense of ground
we thought we stood upon
what if we became the people who hurt us
and let hurt do what it does best
i caress the left side of your face
and pull myself into your bare ear

and i tell you that im angry
ive been angry at so many things that
i was never upset about to begin with
and that there's this vexation
i begin to whisper so quietly with loud words
i tell you i want to disappear
i tell you i want to get away from the things
that wreck my mind
but i stand hand in hand
in comfort with my pain because she is the only
one who knows me inside in.

But what if we let go of the hand that hurts us
learn to forgive ourselves for experiencing
the good type of pain that feels goods
and ruins you
what if become what we deeply wanted
a vessel of happiness
a symbol of healing
what if we accepted what society could not
and pour into ourselves and sew up our own wounds
I caress myself
i push back my hair
feel my lips and stare at my reflection
i lean forward
and I tell myself that im sorry.