i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

When the sky meets the ocean,
the sun screams your name.
all you hear is the faint whisper of what used to be my voice against your chest.
at three in the morning, you woke up to the sound of me shattering your mother's vases.
you begged me to stay.
I broke a few plates and cut my throat on the gravel in my voice.
I slept with you the rest of the night anyway.
upon packing my bags I came across the letter you wrote me that compared my eyes to a storm.
i think i smudged the ink when i spilled jack daniel's all over your bed.
your t-shirt that goes just down to my thighs doesn't fit anymore. I wanted to give it back but it's still in the bottom of my suitcase.
when you dropped me off at my mother's house
she asked about you.
"how is she?"
I told her I didn't know who she was talking about.
we sat there and cried for a long time.
when my dad came home he saw me and smiled.
"I thought you'd never come home."
I just gritted my teeth and told him that home is long past gone.
I sleep in my bed alone, sometimes I sleep on the couch.
it's hell without you but red fire is better than blue.
last weekend you called me.
I thought I heard you say
"my arms are still open" but
it was probably just the ***** talking
my head spins without you
& it hurts to stand up.
I saw that post of you and her
she looks happy and Ive never
seen your eyes look so green.
I think she kissed you
but I dont think about it
when I saw you at the hospital
you looked at me funny.
"fancy meeting you here"
is such an ironic thing to say
while im lying in a cold bed;
****,
they're all cold without you.
I told you about the shower I took,
how it should've been my last but
they made me shower this morning.
you held my hand  
& it made me wonder
why I wasn't dead.
I guess the memories in
my blood didn't come out all the way.
my mom accidentally washed your t- shirt
& I didn't get mad
im glad you're gone
even if it looks like a hurricane
without you.
the story of abandonment gets longer every day
come home, I miss you

I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.

for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?

the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.

no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.

so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.

hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.

instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son

I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.

nobody warns you about the first boy who tells you he wants to marry you.

nobody warns you about the tangible shift in the universe when he parts his lips to smile.

nobody warns you about the poetry he'll write you or how your knees will weaken or the melancholy hidden between the layers of his laughter.

nobody warns you that miles will morph into lightyears and you will curse the ocean for being the only thing that keeps his fingers from resting between yours.

nobody warns you about the day his sweater doesn't smell like him anymore.

nobody warns you that human hands are incapable of holding a person together.

nobody warns you that sometimes love is not enough, no matter how much you wish it was.

nobody warns you about the crippling nostalgia that renders you breathless.

nobody warns you about the nights when silence screams for your blood.

nobody warns you about the crater that forms in your chest in the middle of the night when he doesn't answer.

nobody warns you about how it's going to feel when he tells you he's in love with someone else.

nobody warns you that forever is a lie.

t.m

my teacher
called my name in class
and i almost couldn't answer
i still see your eyes
in the books i haven't been reading
your voice echoes in my brain
when i look at the trees
i hear your smile
it's a million bells jingling
in the background
you are the answer
to all of my astrological questions
you put the ******* stars in the sky
i wish for you every night
and maybe you're gone for good
but i will always love you
i don't care if the stars fall
they're reminders that you existed once
i fell for your frizzy hair and how
it sticks straight up in the mornings
i fell for your rose petal lips
they cause sparks
when they touch me
you are the reason i am alive
without you i would feel nothing,
see nothing,
be nothing
you are the fire in my lungs
and **** it burns but
i've never loved pain so much
you gave me a home
i ran away
but the tears will lead you to me again
if it's right, oh baby,
you fill my veins with poison
and this sickness is the only disease i can love
you are the white light at the end of the tunnel
you are the rain in August
you are the leaves falling from the trees
and you are the only war i'll ever take part of
i fell in love with you
from your fingertips to your toes
and **** baby girl,
you make hell feel like home
and it's never been so bright down here
i like the bumps on your arms
and i love the smell of your perfume
you make me laugh during a funeral
at the way you whisper ***** jokes
to lighten my day
you lighten my day every day
your smile alone is the
reason i came home at all
i can't get enough
you have me
forever
babydoll