you stole the song off my breath,
you stole the sweet off my smile,
i'll hit this blunt until there's nothing left
and stay hollow here a while,
and there's nothing left
between the forest and the fire,
so i'll watch it all burn down
and just pray the flames grown higher.

do you think that they remember me?
the girl with doll eyes who gave into them endlessly
and covered up their lies.
i was a child,
too small to reach, yet still to big to cry.
sometimes the lesson doesn't teach,
sometimes the phoenix doesn't rise,

and the ash remembers me
as the one who got away.
i try not to think too much,
and there's just not much to say,
and if the sky were to fall down,
how much would it weigh?
on my shoulders, getting older,
but as young as i was that day.

for now, i'll just get high,
stare into the wall,
sink into this place where
there's nothing left at all.
time moves faster every day,
and still i feel so small,
trapped inside this place where
there's nothing here at all.

under the bridge
smoking used cigarette butts
where loveless ones lay to
count their dying daydreams,
throwing rocks and rubble at
the railroad tracks.
i remember me,
i remember what is was like,
i remember how warm the warmth,
how sharp the night
that bleeds away through
forties and fortitude,
that cuts through armor like a knife.

you look like me.
trapped in the
timeless, endless dichotomy,
us vs. them
ready to steal, ****, fight.
i see my reflection
in your broken glasses,
my shadow in your eyes.
same age as i was, and
you're under the bridge, too,
and i'd be the last to eat if
it was me vs. you

i understand, and still
i love you.

i love you, and
i realize
that i was worth loving
because i do.

sometimes i wonder when i cry, does god listen
but maybe i should quit crying
go back to rutland, where we all suffer
where we all ache bullet wounds
named after our mother
where we all love snow and
it often rains
so when the sun does come
it's a subtle pain
warmth unfamiliar
unaccustomed to change,
unprotected from the elements,
we are all one in the same-
the sisters and brothers
from the other side of the tracks
who got unlucky and missed the train.

sometimes i think god just went blind
or maybe he forgot our names
but at least we take cover in
the trauma of one another,
our broken bones
and broken veins

sometimes i wonder when we cry, does god listen
if we can ever heal in the arms of each other
if we shattered the sky could we
stop the rain

god-
if you are my heavenly father,
then it is only fitting you would mirror
my earthly father
it is only fitting you too, would fail to protect me.

god-
24 years is a long time to keep the faith
to hold hope that you'll come through this time
to crave and go without your love

god-
is it true that you created us in your image?
do you cut your wrists, too?
do you write poetry?
do you see sound?
do you, too, feel like an ocean?

god-
did you create me just to destroy me?
were you, too, asleep on the couch?

where were you
when i was in that basement
counting ceiling tiles?

god, i begged for you.
much like my earthly father,
you missed what was
right in front of you.

god, i loved you.

i want to be small, nurtured, held. spoonfed and sung lullabies. a hundred baby kisses on my hands and feet. cradled and rocked. protected. safe, when my thumb rests in your palm. i want to be your little girl- soft and new porcelain skin- untouched, entrusting in your touch. a fresh start. rebirth. maybe we can do it right this time.

you are so warm. crystal blue eyes like gems reflecting light. you are everything i've ever craved. the love i've never recieved yet always observed. i love how you cook me dinner. i love how you watch tv with me. i love how you rub my back and pet my hair when i'm sleepy. i love how you think of me. i love how you play games with me. i want to build a treehouse with you and live there forever.

clouded memory
pine needles caught
in her hair, mud in her toes
as fast and as far as
her little feet can take her.

the forest knows her by name-
long since introduced to her tears.

a solace brought by
a familiar violence,
a comfort brought by
the running that
she knows so well,
that she has mastered,
and she will continue to run
until the day she dies.

she craves to stop and catch her breath.

craves to look
at the wildflowers and
listen to the birds.

she does not see the sunrise or sunset.

she only feels the wind
pull her back, she says,
"i must run faster before
they catch up to me."

yet nothing has chased her
in over a decade.

do you think i don't remember? that i don't still feel the cold metal gun pressed into my skin? that i don't sometimes reenact every scenerio, pretending that i am the one pulling the trigger? i still pull my hair back and powder my cheeks with blush, pull my stockings up past my knees and look in the mirror with doll eyes- the false innocence- so easy to play. an actress i am, always have been.

i wish i had killed you.

you beat me to it, your secrets two steps away from exposure.

they scraped your brains off the parking lot, power washed every memory you had of me.

your last breath was my first sigh of relief.