She stopped breaking laws when she
started breaking hearts

Bottled tears in the vial around her neck
She lays in bed like a spider in their web

They say curiosity killed the cat but in this story
Curiosity killed you

And you love kissing her because she is not like the others
She does not pull away out of shame

She kisses hard like brick on brick on window pane
no face aflame

And you love ******* her because she does not hide away
Begs you more more more

She stopped breaking laws when she
Started breaking hearts

You were suppose to hold me tight at midnight
You were suppose to tell me I am beautiful
You were suppose take me out and show me off to your friends and family
You were suppose to kiss me every day
You were suppose to tell me that I was the one
You were suppose to say I love you
But instead you were with her
The girl you claimed that was your friend
The girl you said you did not like the way you liked me
The girl you kissed in public
You held her like she was a diamond
You kissed her like she was beautiful
You loved her like she was the one
You were right, you did not like her the same way you like me, you loved her and liked me.

-Susan

I'll *******,
If you want.
Cause I want it
Just as bad as you do.
But I also want to hear the rustle of the sheets
When you turn over in the middle of the night.
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck.
I want the stubble on your chin to graze my cheek
As you kiss me gently on the forehead.
And when I whisper "goodnight," you don't have to reply.
Just nudge me with your knee
Or poke me with your elbow.

she waits on the streets
ready to meet the one
walking up and down the avenues
hopefully to run into a pleasant man.
but they never are.
always *******
gross
crude
what money does to people.

every week
she gets her allowance
from the one she calls "daddy"
and most of it is wasted
on cheap beer and
cigarettes.

as you read this
she's making dollars
in a squeaky bed
in a basement
and she's only fifteen.

he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer
night, running the blade of the knife
under his fingernails, smiling, thinking
of all the letters he had received
telling him that
the way he lived and wrote about
that--
it had kept them going when
all seemed
truly
hopeless.

putting the blade on the table, he
flicked it with a finger
and it whirled
in a flashing circle
under the light.

who the hell is going to save
me? he
thought.

as the knife stopped spinning
the answer came:
you're going to have to
save yourself.

still smiling,
a: he lit a
cigarette
b: he poured
another
drink
c: gave the blade
another
spin.

she told me
I broke her heart
but she
had mine
in her hands
and she
was holding it
so tightly
and she
was stopping it
from beating
and she
was killing me;
what was I
supposed to do?