i met a mermaid
once, at
sea
...
as
a little girl:

snaggle-toothed
and salty,
she sang songs in
the
      sun,

and i loved her:

for
her hair like
spun,
         white
                  sugar,

and pearl-fluorescent
skin,

and
i know her song,

a song of seaweed and
green sailors
and the
life
i
nearly
           lived
...


but i was caught,
one day,
in gray hues
                      while i was
basking,
starry eyed,
.
and
almost slimy with
love,

when
         my father found her,
                                            and
.
beat
her
to
death.

did you cry as hard as me ,

when you broke me
on the floor
that night ?

heaving chest ,
i screamed and screamed
and hoped
you'd see me
on that red
red carpet ,
heaving .

i bled for hours thinking
you'd notice and
sew me up ,

as you always do ,
.
did .

but you have never felt the way
i felt ,

and you didn't .

crystalline eyes ,
in the sun , watch as boys
laugh
at little girls.

transparent
over layers :
hidden by tears , that were
taken
by other devils,

teeth got locked on to
empty shells as
she smiled ,
sweaty
(while he)
took bites
from her kindness given
out of fear

and
punching heat,
they bare teeth at
one another
in haunting calls,
and

i'd hope you know -
that i'm not dumb or
blind
just clueless.

red
.
.
is a safe color,
the color of warning and
sweet relief,
as
a man wrapped in
plastic comes to your door,
with gifts or a fire hose,
to take you away,
or
as you zip
yourself up
in a sleeping bad with
crossed
stitches.

orange is the color of fear,
of horror,
of how you bled through
my doorway when i turned
off
my lights,
plucking at my heart
when i was trying to
sleep,:
orange is the color of night
when you want it to end.

yellow are the edges of
a picture, of memories
upturned by bees, and flowers..,
and eyes that look up
out windows.
yellow stands next to brown
as my toes tickle wood
and im warmed by
the sun,
yellow are the walls of my kitchen.

green is a gray color;
a neutral that fuels fire
with
mint swirls that surround me,
as
i wish
to run into a forest, hoping
i could somehow
drown a swamp with your body,
or
eat alligators alive.
.
i swear that i
would.

blue is left the saddest color,
ripping stains through
the sky
and leaving oceans with no
islands,
.
blue is the feeling of nostalgia
as you pray to planets
you'll never reach,
wishing for a hole to crawl into,
and a zipper for your heart.
singing
is blue, and so is
night.

purple is a royal color,
the color of a dress behind glass,
as children's laughter
tinkles and a man folds up his
coat; leather.
purple is the color of cake, or
the toys in a baby's room
and
my sheets before i cry.

black is the aftershock of sleep,
and of beauty,
as you stare at the floor from
your place on the couch and
wonder why it hurts.

i look at the sky everyday.

The earthquakes are scary
They are weird and red.
They try to pull
down the people from
bed. the people
are crying they
are trying to run.
They wanted
to fly and
reach
the Sun.

blood.

so much blood leaked into
my eyes
as you took apart the
pieces in my head.

i don't know when it started:
but i was four, maybe
five,
the first time i remember
you taking a big chunk out of me:

i was sweet, rosy red,
and stuffed in a dress,
and you were black,
a pale shadow in
dark clothing as you grabbed
my legs when i tried to run....

and did again,
every night
from then on out.

i was
seated on a couch each time,
and
i felt as though
my eye bags
touched the floor
every second and all i really
wanted
was for you not to be angry...

i hate that stupid couch.
i lied so many times.

i am a mess of
open wounds and
needles that have
never sewn
shut,

and
sometimes i still find
string and knots in (the) places
where
i tried to tug shut-
but ended up ripping
skin,
instead

where:
there's still
salt
from when i tried to cleanse
myself from you,
but
hurt too much to continue,
and left myself
bleeding,

so i'm still here
healing,
letting my veins cry and
my scabs heal over,
with
my a hole where my
heart should be,
and no band-aids to fix
it.