From within my
Glass house
I keep a pillow
Full of stones
To lay my
Weary head
A chest full of
Bricks
To build my bed
And a cabinet
Full of molotovs
In case I need
A drink

Maybe.

She was an empty girl with worlds on her arms
Swirling, shifting, kaleidoscope dreams

She was a quiet girl with tears in her eyes
Dripping, blossoming, nourishing streams

She was a strong girl with blood on her hands
Slipping, chafing, encouraging pain

She was an important girl with jewels in her crown
Shining, glistening, cavalier fame

In her stream of consciousness
falling, falling, falling, falling

Until all that was left was an empty corpse
white, dry, draining life

I feel like I'm being held back
Or maybe like I'll have a panic attack

Those I care about don't feel the same for me
And I can't help but feel like I'll never be free

If I stay too long I'll disappear
I'll bid you adieu and see you next year

Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive /

this **** is impressive / Got ghosts in my mind, but I’ll be addressin’ / This **** in my head that’s got me depressed / Workin’ my hardest, trying my best / tryna escape, can't get out of bed / Word on the street is I’m losing my head / Fight me, I dare you / C’mon go ahead / I’ve been sittin on diamonds under my bed / Stole a whole paycheck and left that boy dead

Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Depressive Depressive / Manic Depressive,

this **** is impressive / Tryna escape, can’t get out of bed / Listen to these voices inside my head: Blood and it’s spilling out of my veins / Onto the bed sheets / Leaving red stains / Can’t help but wonder / If maybe this pain / Will just go away if I bleed down the drain

Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Depressive Depressive /

Ah, ****. I just missed my train.
Whatever, I’ll come back and ride it again

Manic, Depressive /

A little obsessive / Standing on rooftops wearing my messes / Know I could jump / Know that it’s reckless / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Depressive Depressive Depressive Depressive / Took all my pills, Why am I stressin? / Can’t even look at my ******* reflection / Had all my meds / Why’m I still crying? / Doesn’t the world see that I’m dying? / Can’t help but feeling, there’s no denying / Hate that I’m worthless / Hate that I’m crying / I prolly need help but I’d rather be flying /

/ I prolly need help but I’d rather be flying /

Manic Depressive / I’m on top of the world / Just earlier today, I met this cute girl / And maybe she loves me, maybe she don’t / I want her to know that --- love her? I won’t / Manic Depressive / I’m crying I hate it / I saw the sunrise but I’m really debating / What I will say in my last moments / Goodbye to God and Hello to Satan /


Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Manic- It’s come down to this / Why I’ve been waiting, / It’s come down to this / Why I’ve been waiting / right now it’s Game Day / No hesitating

/ I prolly need help but I’d rather be flying /

Here comes the train, no more delaying / shaking the rails / standing between / Heaven and Hell / and then someone yelled -

Fell out of the way / at the sound of the horn / surrounded by dust, coughing a storm /
Look back at the tracks, see only fear / I’m a ******* coward / Can’t believe I’m still here

Manic Depressive / Depressive / Depressive: Now I’m just sinking / Back into bed / Can’t shut off these voices inside my head / I’m shaking, I’m screaming: Why Aren’t I Dead?

Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Manic, Depressive / Now I’m regressing: / Found some guy, says that I’m cute / Don’t want what he’s got but I guess this will do / He looks at me like / Maybe I’ve got a clue / But really I don’t and I know it won’t last / I’m just reliving my painful past / I’m hoping he’ll take me somewhere away - away from my body, away from my brain / but all that he does is add to my pain / he calls me his Kitten / Says I’m so great / I’m wondering if maybe I made a mistake

Manic, Depressive / Massive attack / I’ve gotten to this place / Where I’ve come detached / Nothing makes sense / nothing is fact / I’m half locked away / Just shut the latch

/ Manic, Depressive / This **** is Impressive / Manic, Depressive / Just shut the latch
Manic, Depressive / I can’t even speak / Manic, Depressive / but I know I’m not weak

I prolly need help but I’d rather be flying

1) I want one thing from you:

Love, attention, love & attention
Pay attention to my love

2) I want nothing from you

No love, no care, no attention
Leave me grinning and bare

3) I don't want you

Your heart is too full,
there is no room for me

4) I want your best

Say "no", I dare you
Give to me gifts
Give to me YOU

5) I want one thing from you

Deny Me Nothing

Half a butterfly on my left wrist

The other half on her right hand

We hold, and hold, together we hold

A blue butterfly to hide our scars


I have a pink butterfly to draw attention to my pain

She has a blue butterfly to draw attention away from her eyes


We share our wings,

we give our hearts


It is time for metamorphisis

It is time for us to FLY

Do it for me, or else, he said.
Who would you call for help? Who would care?
Guilty as sin to whoever's looking in, better do it now.

Do it for me, or else, he said.
Go ahead try to hide, try to lie if they pry.
Guilty as sin. Better do it now before someone looks in.
It's as much your fault as it was his.

Go ahead, try to lie. Try to hide if they pry.
You should know better, better than him.
It's as much your fault as it was his.
You're naive as a dog, begging for meat.

He should know better, better than you.
One night gone awry turned a girl into two.
Begging for meat, naive as a dog.
He was the father of a daughter born from violence.

One night gone awry turned a girl into two.
Who would care? Who would you call for help?
The father of your daughter born from violence.
It was painful.

Saccharine: Like a disease, like a bad memory, like a smell you can't get away from. Like a bad memory.

Miriami Matloff has never gotten along with her peers, whether it was at work or at school.  After discharging from yet another mental hospital after yet another suicide attempt, Miriami decides maybe she needs a change of scenery. Desperate to get out of failed relationships and gnawing guilt, Miriami flees to the big city of Los Angeles.

Saccharine: cloying, sickly

When she meets perfection in the form of a charming and mysterious young woman named 'Candy', Miriami finds herself infatuated. Finally! A roommate, a nice apartment, a beautiful city, and a circle of friends who all have their lives together.

Saccharine: thick, heavy, hard to shake. Like the common cold.

But when Candy starts to become distant- not coming home, dodging phone calls, Miriami wonders if maybe the sweet life isn't all its cracked up to be. In an attempt to find answers, Miriami stumbles upon an entire life she knew nothing about.

Saccharine: sweet and awful.

Like a bad memory.

"This isn't fun anymore"
come on baby let me just finish
"I don't want to"
I tried to push him away but
wait babe I'm not done
he was heavy and everything hurt
"Stop I'm done, stop"
and he had me drunk and high
"Stop"
I didn't know where I was
"I'm done it isn't fun anymore"
or who he was
wait just- I'm hitting it good right?
It was all I could do not to cry
just shut down and wait it out
but I couldn't close my eyes
because the smoke he gave me
was laced in something
"Can't we be done? I wanna leave"
ahhhh there we go
Now I was
sticky,
smelly,
soiled
and sick
"Take me back to my stuff"
*I hit it good, right?"
He didn't deserve an answer
So the tears rolled hot and
silent
down my face

Manic:
synonyms: mad, insane, deranged, demented, maniacal, lunatic, wild, crazed, demonic, hysterical, raving, unhinged, unbalanced etc;

Depressive:
causing feelings of hopelessness, despondency, and dejection.

Manic
******* pairs of strangers every weekend, because them thinking you're desirable cures the hollowness for a minute or two

Depressive
Letting a man tie you to a bed and rip the skin off your shoulder with his teeth because you deserve to hurt

Manic
Getting higher than you've ever been so you can have an excuse to scream

Depressive
Crying at night and pretending its loneliness that's ******* you up

Manic
Driving a car you stole from your sister, even though you don't have a license or a clue where you're headed

Depressive
Drinking tequila during class so you can prove to yourself that you really are a badass

Manic
Dressing like a ******* and letting random men get you in their cars

Depressive
Punching a wall so hard your knuckle breaks

Manic
Calling yourself hot **** while you sob over the sink and then laugh at the world's beauty

Depressive
****

Manic*
****

So that's what you think of me

How could I have thought for even a minute that I was respectable.

All this time I was thinking I was deserving of love and kindness.

Last thing on my mind was your opinion of me, and it hurt. It ******* hurt.

Look at you, sitting in a seat of power and leering over me calling me shallow.

On further inspection, yeah it was ****** up of me to get fresh with my counselor.

What's a shallow nymphomaniac expected to do otherwise? Riddle me that.

Shouldn't have to go to rehab.

They shouldn't have to spend a month,
surrounded by other ****-ups who are ruining their lives,
to get their **** together before their family disowns them

Girls your age shouldn't be addicts.

They shouldn't have drinking problems,
manic spending,
kleptomania,
or a coke problem

Girls your age
shouldn't have problems.

You're seventeen. Shut up and get a job.

The first one this week is named Carlos,
he's tall and handsome and twice my age
He's got tan skin with all the hair burned off
his arms from sunlight sand and surf
He likes to call me "*******"

The second one this week is named Charlie,
he's married and chubby and masochistic
He's got a sunglass tan and three different cars
He likes to call me "baby"

The third one this week is named Ryan,
I think
He's tall I'm tall we were in his car our heads bumped
several times
He video taped the entire thing from three different angles
He likes to call me "***** *****"

I've gotten into the habit
of sleeping with friends

I'm not guilty of ****,
don't get me wrong

But I do have issues
ask anyone

And honestly
I'm not sure where
or how I get off

There's something about
knowing someone forever

and then knowing them
completely differently
the next day over

I thought maybe
this could be my chance
to get what I've always wanted

though it was probably a mistake
to think he wanted me like this

probably a mistake
to think he wanted me at all

I hadn't spoken to her in two years
I don't think she remembered my name.

I still had her phone number,
though I hadn't ever called

She broke me when she left
Or when I left her

The months went on and turned to years
I still hadn't healed

I was so, so angry
So I looked up her number

Opened up a text

And on August 21st, 2014
I sent:

"Happy birthday,
Selfish *****."

I could tell you how I am
or I could show you

but I can't.

Show you, I mean

My pain is more than skin-deep
I carry around emotional baggage
just under my eyes
and drag it with me,
suitcases full of decaying memories

If you choose not to consider me as part of your life
and leave my memory to rot and linger for months
then ******* for trying to push back into my head
and pretend you care

If you think I'm about to let you into my life
when you haven't so much as asked me
if I even want you there
then ******* for trying to push back into my head
and pretend that you care

I'm just fine, thanks.
I'm great, actually.
Life goes on with or without you.

It's not that I hate you
or want you to leave me alone,
no,
it's so much more than that

I need you by my side
I need you to check up on me
I need you to show me that you care

and as soon as you do that,
I'll spit right in your face
Cut you down to size so you
never make the mistake of trusting me again

When you're gone,
I'm so alone

So I sit alone in my room at night,
watch lightning tear apart the sky
and I take paper cutters
and razor blades
to the tips of my fingers
so all my scars
all my pain
and all of me
remains invisible

You, I love

Not "I love you"
me first, I this
me that
me before you

You, I love

Your smile, I love
Your mind, I love

Your kindness, I love
Your wrath, I love

Your imagination, I love
Your creativity, I love

Your confusion, I love
Your curiosity, I love

Your voice, I love
Your laugh, I love

You, I love

You before me,
no matter what *we do.
Because it is you whom I love.

Ridge
(as in steep precarious drops into nothingness)

I'm surrounded by "almost"s and idk what to do with it. You know, like a marionette doll.

I'm entirely dead, but when something needs to be done- someone can just tug the strings and I'll limp off in the general direction regardless of whether I want to or not.

Nouns with no verbs,
adjectives with no subject.

I didn't sleep that night, I was up all night questioning my existence.
Literally questioning my existence. It was intense. Just heard my mom's voice on a loop
"It's not real"
"Yes, I believe you might be experiencing uncertainty about your identity but personality disorders aren't real"
"They're not real"
"That's not the kind of thing you just bring up in conversation, it's not just an everyday topic"
"stop pretending to be them"
"it's not real"
"not real"
"not real"

I slept very little

I just
kinda feel like a lab animal on a surgery table. Can't do anything to help myself, just hope that the end is quick whatever it may be.

Is this the ridge?

No, I wasn't drinking
Yes, I was dressed "provocatively"

No, I didn't come on to him
I didn't say he could touch me
No, I wasn't giving him "bedroom eyes"
No, I didn't lead him on

Yes, I shared a cab with him
No, I didn't say he could put his hands on me
Yes, I was naive
No, I didn't say I wanted to put my hand or my head in his lap
No, I didn't ask the taxi driver to help me
No, I didn't refuse to let him put his fingers in me

No, I didn't tell him I wanted to go home then
Yes, I let him take me to his apartment
Yes, I let him take my clothes off
Yes, I let him inside me
No, he didn't use a ******
Yes, I took a morning after pill

Yes, I regret it

But he didn't ask,
so I didn't say no

What's that? - he said
You know - I said
Why'd you take them? - he asked
Reasons - I said
He paused
I waited

You don't need them. - he said

supposedly you can like... reclaim your virginity if you just try it y'know consensually with a clear head then it doesn't matter what happened before because you own it now but

I'm not sure that's how it works

i just want
to start over
i want my virginity back, i want my childhood back, i want my friends back i want control over my life because I've never had that
little things, I guess

Yeah just the small things

well idk big things whatever i just want it all back
id do it again and do it right
id like my innocence back, i want possibilities back, i want hope back
i want the freedom of not having to worry about consequences i want the trust of my mother back i want
whatever

You want your life back

who would i have turned out to be if i wasn't stalked and harassed and sexually abused when i was thirteen until i was sixteen? what if i didn't attempt suicide so many times? what if i didn't **** my childhood pets? what if i succeeded in school? what if I cared about my relationships? what if I wasn't a pathological liar?
yeah I want my life back. but its more than that. i want ME back
because what if

I've never felt a body
next to mine, under mine
with different parts than mine.

I've never felt hands
around mine, beneath mine
that were bigger than mine.

I've never felt lips
that never wanted mine,
didn't seek out mine
wouldn't taste mine.

I've never slept with someone
who wasn't at least somewhat
mine.

"What did you do?"
Nothing
"What did you do?"
.... Nothing
He stared me down
for a solid minute
"What did you do?"
I stayed quiet
"What did you do?"
I...
"What?"
"What. Did. You. Do?"
I hooked up with...
"What? Louder?"
Evan
He stared me down
Unblinking
Turned his head away
Didn't speak to me
when I tried to change
the conversation topic
"Hey?"
Nothing
"Did you know, uh,"
silence
"that snails grow their shells?"
I tried to break the quiet
Slowly, measuredly
he said in even tones
"Get your ****."
I was quiet this time
"Go."
What?
"I said get
your ****
and

i shoot candy coloured liquor into my veins
and sing high notes I can't hit

i killed a man once with my words
and was convicted of a felony I had nothing to do with

I guard myself from a cruel world I've never seen
and poets say they talk to their hearts

But I don't talk to my heart
my heart talks to me

remember the time
we stole a car and hotboxed the backseat

remember the time
you swore no one saw us
steaming up the windows
with your lips between my hips

remember the time
we nearly got caught
sitting by the river
with your hands up my shirt

remember the time
the kid from gym punched you in the eye
and called you a ******

remember the time
he was sent home with a broken wrist
and I got detention

remember the time
we lied in your bed
listening to each other's heartbeats

remember the time
your mother asked
"How come you've never brought home
a nice boy?"

remember the time
you told me you loved me
and I wanted to slit my throat open

remember the time
I tried to say goodbye,
but all I could muster was "I hate you."

remember the time
we tried to coexist
and I destroyed my mind
trying to get rid of memories

remember the time
we said hi in a coffee shop
and never spoke again

remember the time
we met?
Mutual class friends
invited us to a club

remember the time
we hit it off by the bar
and you told me I was funny

remember the time
you invited me out
and then invited me home

remember the time
we made a joint blog

remember the time
we planned our wedding

remember the time
you introduced me to your dog

remember the time
I told you I was unstable

remember the time
I told you we would never work out

Call #1:
I was excited. I was going to tell you about the new friend I'd made. She sits next to me in rehearsal and has a pretty laugh. And the girl two seats over who had long hair and funny jokes. Or the blonde on my right who had great music taste and a contagious smile. As soon as we had a break, I dialed your number. It rang three times, you didn't pick up.

Call #2:
We'd just finished rehearsal. I turned my phone back on, no new messages. But I wanted to tell you about our conductor with the sarcastic comments and the irrelevant analogies. I was going to tell you about the breakfast buffet or the church campus we were on. I dialed your number, it rang three times. You didn't pick up.

Call #3:
You called back! The conductor was calling us back inside, our break was already over. We exchanged mutual apologies and goodbyes. I promised I'd call back in a half hour. And I did.

Call #4:
We were finally out for lunch, I dialed your number. It rang three times. You didn't pick up.

Call #5:
I shouldn't have bothered. I had nothing left to tell you. I just wanted to hear your voice. I dialed your number. It rang three times. You didn't pick up.

Call #6:
It's dinner time now and I don't want to eat. I know it's late where you are and you're probably busy. This time I even stopped to listen to your voicemail greeting. It wasn't the same. I sat through dinner waiting for my phone to flash with a message, a missed call, a voicemail. Something to show you still cared.
And it did. I eagerly flipped my phone over, it wasn't from you.
I spent that day clinging to the hope that maybe you'd call, maybe you'd remember. You promised.

Call #7:
It's after midnight. I'm on the balcony. The air is cold and I'm crying. Even if you'd called, what could I have said? Would I tell you my ex girlfriend is a dropout? That my insomnia's come back? That I nearly fainted during rehearsal, or that I was actually proud of myself for only having four nervous breakdowns?

The one time I felt like I needed you most, you weren't there.
I waited all day for a call that never came.

I was going to leave a voicemail, on that last call. I had climbed onto the railing, looking down at the street. I wondered what would **** me first: the fall to the ground, or a broken heart. I called again. It didn't even ring.

If you'd answered...
Maybe I would've told you that I'd twisted my ankle when I finally came down from that railing. Maybe I would've told you that I couldn't eat at all that day because I was too hurt. I could barely fight the tears hard enough to choke back a glass of water. Maybe I would've told you how everyone stared when I spilled my coffee because I couldn't even see straight. Maybe I would've told you how stupid I felt that I was even crying over you. You're a friend, nothing more- so why the hell do I care so much?
Maybe I would've told you. But I didn't. You broke your promise.

And maybe I'm obsessive, maybe I'm annoying. But I called seven times, and on the last it didn't ring.

Doesn’t it all get to me in the mornings
Before i’ve eaten anything
before I’ve done my hair and makeup
i build up my walls and open the gates
because someone promised me
id get something today

but it was all for nothing
because its over before it started
and now I’m alone on the couch
with a bottle of irish coffee
waiting for the pills to kick in

Wounds still hurt
words still sing
Heart's still break
blood still bleeds

You wish it all away when you throw out the christmas tree
but nothing changes when the calendar does.

I'll never know which way her head turns first when she hears my voice, or what stupid jokes make her start laughing all embarrassed, idk what it feels like to hug her, idk what kinds of foods she likes to snack on, idk what she looks like when she's tired, idk what random moments can make her smile, idk what she shakes her head at when she overhears a conversation, idk if she leans on a desk before she gets up or if she scoots out her chair first, idk if she picks her nails, idk if she lips when she gets an injury from basketball, idk what her hands feel like in mine, idk what shampoo she uses and what her hair smells like and how short she is compared to me so i can kiss her head and- i could go on. But it's the little things, you know? You two have that and I don't and it makes me sad

Hands, everywhere. All over her back, in her hair, on her neck, on her hips. Pulling her onto a desk, pulling her face close, pulling her hair back. Lips, everywhere. On her own, at her neck, on her hips. Eyes, everywhere. On her face, on her body.

The desk, cold and solid against her back, hands hot on her thighs. Lips soft on her neck, fingers rough inside her. First one, slow and easy. Then two, pumping rhythmically. Then three, stretching her to her limits. Lips left her neck, a bruise to remember them by. A hand grabs her hip and pulls her forward. A head between thighs, breathing her in. Soft, timid lips on her skin. Two hands spread her thighs apart and a tongue tastes her, hot and rough. It makes a home between her hips, tasting every drop of her anticipation.

A different hand meets her neck. Another joins it and pulls her in, leaning her forward legs still apart with a tongue buried inside.

Hot like matches,
bright with heat

Fiery candles
lining the street

Warm to the touch,
full of hot air

You and I were
not meant to repair

Where we ended
is all we could be

Like a match,
you and me

We were temporary.

******* isn’t a very pretty word, so let’s pretend it wasn’t. We’ll say it was... love.
Or do they call it making love? Does it matter if that wasn’t what it was?
Recall I don’t love you and neither you me. It doesn’t really matter because what will we ever be?
Curled up next to you almost made me think I was happy. I’ll say it was... infatuation.
Enamored, maybe, I was. But then again you were only using me, weren’t you darling?
Don’t pretend you don’t remember those three nights. I can help you out if you’d like.

Teasing was all it was supposed to be. Do you remember the taste of my lips? I remember yours.
Re: not the ones on your face. But from a legal standpoint, do you know what you did?
All that fun we had? You drugged me, used me, and took advantage of me. I swear you did.
Unless I was high the whole time, I’m fairly certain your boyfriend was filming us.
Might I add that he could be arrested for exploiting a minor?
And you, too, for ****. But don’t worry, we were just *******. Right?

But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that. What we made was love, remember?
Love, like when you spiked my coffee. Love, when you watched me strip. Love...
Uncouth is how I would describe the things we said to each other. Bad words, bad words.
Now I just want to tell you one thing, and don’t take it the wrong way.
Te amo, mi amor. I hope you burn in hell but only when you treat me well.

I have no idea what to say. I don’t know what I believe in.

I do know what I don’t believe in, though.

I don’t believe in god. Or any salvation, really.
I don’t believe in sheltering opinions and coddling students. I don’t believe in censorship.
I don’t believe in the idea that we should teach by word of mouth instead of leading by example. I don’t believe in hitting children as a form of discipline.
I don’t believe in authority that abuses power in order to **** anything in their way.
I don’t believe in searching through your daughters text messages to find out if she’s in trouble in place of fostering a relationship that allows open communication with her so that she doesn’t need to hide.
I don’t believe in hanging threats over people’s heads in lieu of the things they have done when they were a different person.
I don’t believe in kicking people while they’re down by telling them that “someone somewhere out there has it much worse than you do.”
I don’t believe in hurting for everyone equally at the same time.
I don’t believe in painting my nails purple.
I don’t believe in vegetable juice.
I don’t believe in veganism.
I don’t believe in paprika or leprechauns either.
Hell, I don’t really believe in anything– and that, I can believe.

I was hoping you'd notice my absence.
I wanted you to be hurt when you realised
that I didn't say goodbye.

I was hoping you'd assume that I
no longer want you in my life.
I wanted you to cry when you realised
I had cut you out of my life.

I was hoping you'd know what you'd lost.
I wanted you to be in pain when you realised
that you almost had me, but now I'm
gone.

I am so ******* happy
for the first time in years

Finally no more sitting
on the ground
choking back tears

Can I rejoice?

To be a stupid pawn
in this game called Life
was not my choice

But oh, thank god
thank god, thank god,

It's over.
It's over and we don't have to talk about it anymore.

Up to the looking glass
you can see
none too clear

A pink hazed unreality
beckoning your touch

A myriad of music notes
pulling your hand

Your own voice covers you
in a blanket of warmth
humming to you
still, still, still

Inside the looking glass
you can see
none too clear

A gray clouded fantasy
begging for your taste

A shattered vanity
sinking into your teeth

Your own voice covers you
in a blanket of warmth
humming to you
shh, shh, shh

I will eventually
convince myself

That this means
absolutely nothing

I will eventually
be rid of the stickiness
that is the pain
of anything near me

touching my skin
and making my mind
revolve around strange
things

I sometimes think of sin

Of all things

I think about how wrong,
how it’s bad

Society says no
they all just want us
to go

It was my insecurity
it was my discomfort

It was the pressure from you
and all that wouldn’t fit

Everything that just
didn’t work

And so I threw a fit

I’m sorry.

Right?

Is that what
I should say?

I’m sorry,
I’m sorry

Saying it again
would make everything
okay

But it doesn’t.

The pain of
what used to be

The thought
of what could’ve
been

The memories
of the hurt,
everything
that really
just wouldn’t
work

I’m sorry,
I’m sorry

It is working yet?

Why am I doing this?

It wasn’t me,
I promise

Why am I
apologizing?

In reality,
who’s fault was it?


Why did you
try to convince
me that
everything was okay?

I’m sorry but

I think it’s

time to say that

it wasn’t me,

it was you

so this is

ultimum valae.

Please cooperate, sweetheart. You're
Laying on your back, posing for
A cameraman with a sweaty hand.
You're nervous, I understand.
But you don't need to worry, we'll take care of you.
Oh, I know I know-
You need your rent money, right?

My dear, you'll get it don't worry don't worry.
All he needs is just one
Good shot. Stay still for us please, it'll be over soon.
And then we're done! See, was that so bad?
Zero pain on your part, right?
I know, I know, I'll get you your money.
Now you wait right here.
Except just one thing- would you be willing to model for us again?
Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

My grandma babbles about the "good ol' days",
an aunt stirs her tea.

The cousins are running wild "Who's watching them?"
Right, me.

My mother brags about her eldest daughter
and all her achievements;

I actually don't exist.

My uncle barks a drunken epithet,
hands slam on the table
laughter shakes shoulders.

Talk of kindergarten politics is touched upon.
The gays? They exist.
The poor? They're, well, poor.
The coloreds? Are they still here?

Dice are tossed,
feet shuffle under the table.

The dog yaps for scraps.

Uncle goes outside with a cigarette
takes a puff.

Auntie doesn't wanna go to bed,
says "a slavelord woulda haveta whip me to get me off this chair."

I decide I've had enough.

I get up for another drink.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

A tribute to the shallow scars on my back
from the peeling edges of her 6-inch heels
when her knees were on my shoulders
and I teased the alphabet into her lips

Homage to the bruises on my neck and chest
from her strawberry-wax coated lips
when her blunt white teeth scraped words
across my skin

Here’s to the video footage we captured
with her laptop camera, sitting on a desk
Broadcasting us both to the other side of the world

Ode to your girlfriend, screaming my name
Ode to her fingers and tongue
Ode to your girlfriend, taste-testing me
Ode to making her

He gets off
on watching you
with me

You made him ***
when he saw you
underneath me

His hand in his pants
when he saw you
covered in hickeys
from me

Do you remember
when he begged
to watch you
interlace your tongue
with mine

You made him moan
when you were on your back,
*******, by me

He loves to watch you
*with me.

I’ve been chasing stars
scratching shiny cars

Looking for a way out
of my own milky­ eyed galaxy

Racing rotted leaves
tattooing names in trees

Climbing into basements
of abandoned penthouse suites

Punching holes in drywall
burning up the skies

looking for a way in
to never­-open eyes

I’ll write “forever” on a heart
that doesn’t beat in time

“Love” inside a soul
that just wants to die

I’ve been trailing stars

Stealing brand­ new cars

Looking for a way out
of curdled white regret

I woke up to screaming
no- I woke up screaming.

Your pallid, rotting face leering
above my lips

Icy steel between my bones,
hot wet rivers down my cheeks

A wash of pastel colors
and furious drumbeats

Laughter,
echoing

and your memory taunting me:

******* right    **you should be scared of me

She was an empty girl with worlds on her arms
Swirling, shifting, kaleidoscope dreams

She was a quiet girl with tears in her eyes
Dripping, blossoming, nourishing streams

She was a strong girl with blood on her hands
Slipping, chafing, encouraging pain

She was an important girl with jewels in her crown
Shining, glistening, cavalier fame

In her stream of consciousness
falling, falling, falling, falling

Until all that was left was an empty corpse
white, dry, draining life