When you write a poem
It makes **** more real

The emotions
Come to life
And you feel
Everything
All over again
Tears resurface
Anger bubbles over
All that ****
Comes back
Into existence
When all you wanted
Was for it
To go away
Forever

That's why
You wrote the poem
You wanted
All the ****
Gone
Banished
But writing it
Makes it real
All over again

Maybe that's
Why people
Don't write anymore
Maybe that's
Why people
Stop feeling things
Then they
Don't have
To feel them
Again

"Don't you want to make it work?"
I asked
Tears in my eyes
Begging you to stay
Clutching your hand
In desperation
My heart quivering
Fearing the answer
You might give

Nothing ever hurt me
As much as you saying
No
You didn't
You were done

The cold swept in
And took me away
Far far
From you
Because next to you
I was getting
Frost bite

No longer smitten
Just ******
And frost bitten

No poem came to me this morning
as I walked for an hour
in the snowmelt mist
threading my boots through
the brown salt muck and flotsam
winter's junk food wrappers
the city just stared
at its own face in the ice
as uninspired as me

Monday
Oh how I dread you
Can you just go away for one more day

Tuesday
You could be anything or nothing at all
You're just Tuesday

Wednesday
**** DAY
I finally get to look forward to the weekend

Thursday
The day before Friday
Anything could happen, but it wouldn't count

Friday
The most annoying day because of Rebecca Black
But it means we have 2 days of no *******

Saturday
Thank you for no school
But sadly you go by too fast

Sunday
Ruined because you know tomorrow is Monday
The one day I remember to do my homework

the day of the sun precedes the day of the moon, as if to remind us of the light within that reflects in the dark. and maybe we share that same light? how utterly and cosmically beautiful.

Mama said there’s no more
cowboys in the west
Just lizard men
with monsters on their chest
No more southern belles
just slimy sugar snakes
Smearing their lips with fish scales
to taste like cake

Mama said there’s no more
cowboys to ride into the dawn
Just scattered limbs passed out
in the front lawn
No cupcake women
hosting great soirées
Just frightened deer
that stare into the grey

I wish I saw myself clearly
In these black mirrors
Through which I see the world
Through which the world sees “me”
Everyone walks around with these

My big sister bleeds on the glass
Of her black mirror
Cutting the corners of her curves
To fit inside the black mirror
Children walk around with these

My brothers put drugs on the surface
Of black mirrors
Noses high in the air from the reflection
In the black mirror
I walk around with these



[ I believe the fruit on the tree
Of Adam and Eve
May have been an Apple ]

it’s the kind of day
that makes your
jaw ache and the
soreness settle in
even the youngest
of bones

(“rainy days and mondays
always bring me down”
but rainy mondays are
guaranteed to be worse)

i worry too much
care too much
cry too much
think too much

it’s about time
to start thinking about
what happens when
seasonal depression hits

about time to start
making plans for
the rest of my
everloving life

it’s hard for me
to make plans
hard for me to
admit that maybe
my life won’t always
make me miserable

i struggle with
feeling powerless

watching those around
me suffer
trying every day to make
someone smile

and then one monday
picking up a paper
and seeing that one of those
smiles is no longer with us

nobody tells the barista
and they tell me it’s hard to find
out someone you know has died
by looking at a work ticket

but i’m just the girl who
makes your coffee and
wraps your bouquets and
no matter how much i
truly genuinely care about
each face in this town i know

at the end of the day
i have to face that
nothing can change
the inevitabilities

that nothing i say
can really help
the world will still
turn without me
like it turns without
others who are gone

i know i sound
pessimistic
i’m sorry
it’s just a rainy
day or monday
getting me down