afternoon hanging heavy,
caressed by a tomato soup fog,
tired carpet, fleshy velvet couch
both aching for validation.

ten photos of the same dog
speak Latin all at once

a desk in utter disarray,
fishbowl walls slimy
and coated in shame

a bookcase crammed with
stepfather books,
trying too hard, too much, too soon

giant cilia lined lungs swing from the ceiling,
******* in and out and in and out and in and
all of the oxygen and

it has already been an hour,

$150,
a check is fine,
see you next week.

My mother died a month ago
On a Sunday, well it was Monday
But she was dying on a Sunday
No matter the day I will always remember how she left
me
All alone in this dark cold world..

I am alone here with no one and nothing that will care
for me...

He stayed with me on nights when I was lonely.
He came the day mom died to hold me
He was here  but he wanted to be there, with his one and only
It made me sad to see that he didn't want to be with me
and even sadder to know that I was still all alone

If my mom was here she'd tell me to stop being so lonely
Brush off my dancing shoes grab a friend and go somewhere new
somewhere far away from you.
She'd say "my dear you are never alone, I will always be with you.."
My mother wouldn't want me to be sad
My mother wouldn't want me to be mad
She'd tell me to try and keep a smile on my face and remember to pray for better days.

Who cares if it's Monday and it's 2pm
You're on my mind and on my skin
You're gnawing at my bones
Eating through my brain
It's 2pm on a cold Monday
And I miss you.

Monday,
The first time of the week,
Where I start to feel weak,
People pass by,
Without looking at me in the eye,

Tuesday,
I feel better now,
I wish I knew how,
So I could do it once more,
When I start to feel like a bore,

Wenesday,
The pain is back,
I would’ve stayed in bed this morning,
Today I lack,
Of the thirst to be learning,

Thursday,
I’m almost done with this series of seven days,
But everything in my mind is like a maze,
I can’t find the end of it,
Just like I can’t seem to fit,

Friday,
I’m almost out of school,
I’ll get rid of these fools,
I’ll feel better once I’m home,
I won’t be in the corridors I usually roam,

Saturday,
I forgot about my problems at home,
I forgot my dad likes to hit my mom when she’s alone,
I feel my world tumbling down,
With nobody to help me around,

Sunday,
Soon I’ll be back to school,
Surrounded by the same fools,
I don’t have any control,
Of my heart or my soul

Yesterday,
I felt like my troubles were so far away,
Like I had a chance at feeling better for a day,
My past keeps haunting me,
It probably will be like this for an eternity,

Today,
I can’t seem to enjoy anything,
It’s really annoying,
I wish I could just smile,
For a while,

Tomorrow,
I’ll continue to procrastinate,
And hope for something better,
And hate my fate,
When it’ll think “whatever”,

My days seem to pass me by,
And I’m a day closer,
To the day I die.

The door,
the same old door
open and unlocked,
you sit on the couch,
the one you slept on for
six years.

In the flames tonight,
the smell of burning will be back
but this time,
it is welcome.

The cabinets,
the dishes,
they are all broken
and I am standing on shards of porcelain
piercing my feet,

in fear of more pain,
we stay where we are

you, on the couch
and me, on the plates.

welcome home.

I wanna marry a man who isn’t really
a man, but the illusion of one,
he’s actually just a cut out,
and I want to write his name in my
blood on the church so that God
knows
that I am okay alone.

And I’m tired of checking up
on how you’re doing,
because you probably don’t think of
me.

We sit on the fire escape at dawn,
my cardboard husband and I,
and we smoke cigarettes
and he burns a little
because paper is flammable.

When the sun comes up,
I feel you.
Landslide, land mine, landline, and
the burns on my tongue.

Bitter coffee and it’s not so bitter
compared to the taste of the spiders
crawling from my mouth,
and when I think of you


...You probably don’t think of me.

I’d write your name on the church,
but I don’t have enough blood for
two names.