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Blood drips down the blade.
Time flies by; memories fade.
Pain has been erased.
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If I could erase the mistakes I've made
You would be at the top of my list
I'd erase all the tears I made you cry
And all of the years we missed

I'd erase all the scars I ever caused
And the hurt you carried inside
I'd erase all the times I said "I cared"
But I knew in my heart I lied

I'd erase all the memories that turned out sad
The memories you couldn't forget
I'd erase all the years you waisted on me
The years you learned to regret

I'd erase all the kisses you couldn't take back
And the smiles you threw away
I'd erase all the times that I said I was sorry
I didn't mean them anyway

But for you to forget all the things that I've done
It's really quite easy to see
The only thing left for me to erase
Is nothing more than me

I put on my Sunday best
Wait by the door have my bible rest  at my side
With my skinned up knees and little party dress
Today is my birthday I feel extra nice
My mother polished my shoes and bought me fancy ruffled socks
I await with anticipation to head to my church
A place to feel protected this I’m sure
It is such a warm day I feel the sun kiss my youthful skin
Can’t believe I’m twelve today
Thoughts race through my head
I wonder if they will remember and do something special?
Will I get a new bible for mine is tattered and the cover is torn
I wonder? It does serve the purpose so maybe not
I watch the cars go on by  one by one
Feeling a bit antsy maybe they forgot to get me today
But within a few minutes I’m on my way
With a happy birthday from some fellow church members
I feel so proud twelve years old time flies by  
We head into the house of God
I could hear the bell charming oh so loud
My favorite sound on Sunday morning
My stomach starts to growl it distracts me
Punch and cookies await for me
Church hymns begin to waken my ears
I fiddle with the lace  on my new pretty dress
Clicking my heals and accidentally hit the wooden bench
I’m in the house of god
Mommy always taught me to not entertain myself with other thoughts
So I focus on that white and black collar
He is so large standing like a king
One bead at a time let my fingers dance across
I think of sunflowers and rainbow colors
We stand up and sit down and repeat this again
Its time for fellowship to begin
I need to get myself a drink its stifling hot in here  
I tell the family that brought me here that I would be back in a bit
I skip to get a drink that water is so cold
Why do I like drinking out of a fountain? Is it  because it tickles my nose?
After cookies and punch I’m told I have an extra surprise
For today I can get a ride home
I see the black and white collar its looks so scratchy
But this is Gods house and he does what’s best
As  people say goodbyes and I sit and wait for my surprise
Maybe because momma can’t afford much I will get something nice
Its peaceful as the church hymns are gone

I have never been in here when it is silent
He tells me to sit down and gives me a drink
It taste familiar maybe that wine that only those who had communion can taste
I drink it down so fast it makes me a little dizzy
Perhaps it’s the heat in this building
The fans seemed to be broken on the hottest of Southern days
Father tells me my dress is pretty
I smile politely waiting for a surprise
He ask if my socks are new and I reply with a very loud excited “Yes “
What have I done to get the attention like this?
My best friend had a birthday two Sundays ago
What did she get?
I hear mommas voice run in my head don’t entertain yourself in the house of the Lord
So I close my eyes for a moment or two
So I hear today is your birthday , that makes you a special girl
I nod my head still feeling a little loopy
May I take your picture for the church paper?
You look so pretty but first take your hair down
I release my braids one at a time
My hair is wavy and long and so baby fine
I show off my socks so proud of them
He smiles at me with his  bright smile
Can I see you twirl around in your Sunday best ?
I giggle and spin in a circle or two
Smile he tells me so I do
Come sit here I sit upon a desk
I must be special to be up here
Father asks to see what’s under my dress
I ask why but know father knows best
For a quick moment I lift my dress
Feeling my face become flushed
Its alright you’re the birthday girl
I ask if I get a bible he says after were done with pictures and such
I sit quietly listening to his voice its deep but soothing
My feet don’t want to hold still
I try and be polite and use my manners just like momma likes
He has his fingers stroke my face they are soft but large and feel nice
May I give you a birthday kiss? I have seen my elders  kissing and practiced on my doll
This wont be wrong we are where god lives
His lips graze mine slowly at first
Then it becomes harder and he is full of thirst
These hot Southern days
His face feels like sand paper like grandpa has to make his Christmas gifts
It warms me suddenly then cools me down
I feel a burning between my legs it aches
He reaches for me my wavy hair resting in his hands
I feel so special but keep wondering what my gift will be
He gives me another drink of that pretty red stuff
Giving me sips slowly as he grips the cup
It spills down my lips a little at a time
But we don’t waste any he drinks it from my chin
I feel as though I suddenly forgot how to breathe
There is something under my slip of my dress
It makes me at ease
At night when I go to sleep and put my head on the pillow
I feel that kind of rest
There is an sensation in my chest
He reaches up and pinches these small pink eraser like dots
A noise is able to escape it’s a noise I have heard before
Through closed doors but never from me
He takes off my dress slowly and meticulously
I don’t want to rip my new dress or the slip that grandma made
His mouth finds my little mounds of pink and nibbles away
He makes no sound I finally breathe
As colors start to run down his neck and onto the once white crisp shirt
He removes it . I want to touch it feel it around my neck
Its just paper with cloth but he allows me this
So I stand with my *****  pink erasers and this collar
I wonder am I a man of God now?
He asks if I would like to see why he is a man
I apply yes use my manners so nice
He takes my hand and puts it on a warm hard lump that is escaping his pants
I’m not scared I feel safe
He takes out the thing that makes him a man and he wants it against my face
My birthday present at last
Father is careful placing it  on my lips
So I try and kiss it like its one of my dolls
I feel kind of silly so I ask him how
Like a ice-cream take your time
Go in circles over this spot
So I do and it grows I try and put it in my mouth
My lips are sore and I need a drink
He laughs at me and gives me more red drink
I want you to lay down he says to me
So I do and feel like I have been on a merry go around
He removes my flowered printed *******
My stomach starts to feel woozy  
But I still feel good
I’m twelve today he is so impressed
I lay down with butterflies in my chest
At first it hurt his finger exploring me
But then it was like a warm day and a cool breeze washed over me
It kind of tickled when he put his tongue there
I giggled and moved my hips
But something happened that felt like my favorite candy
My body wouldn’t quit moving beneath his face
I shivered and wondered am I getting sick
Then just like that it was over
He flipped me around and put his fingers in another place
I was kind of worried that I done something wrong
He reassured me that I was doing fine
Something felt warm on my behind
He told me its going to hurt but it will be alright
I felt a pain that heard a sound  
His rough deep voice maybe this is where he belongs
For a moment I didn’t breathe
I held back the tears because I’m twelve a big girl
He turns me over once again takes my tears and put them in his mouth
He was looking for salvation he drank every last one
So as I lay thinking of rainbows and the evening sky
He has some fluid that I drink like the wine
It tasted like nothing but was thick and made me feel shy
But as we finish he hands me a new bible I tear a page and wipe myself dry

handles of time click
permanently forward without an
eraser or a reverse

Today I have adopted
a new Dream Occupation:

No longer a Buddhist Monk
On a Mountain Peak in Nepal
but Henry Miller, I will Be
And shall dance the
Worlds Circumference
With no brain in skull but a pen in
between crooked-only-on-the-right teeth
Mark my words today in
pencil please
So tomorrow I will have a
reminder and in a fortnight I will have
an eraser;
Henry Miller never
Wrote drafts in ink

the past is an old
dimension
in which i find
myself pondering
often.
if i could erase the pain,
i would with
no regrets
because you took
my once
pure
heart and
destroyed what i once was.
locked doors may keep
others out but
it doesn’t keep me from
the nightmares of
your touch.
there’s a ghost
in that room,
and in my head
that’s full of the
eraser shavings i’ve
created by trying to
forget but the more i
scrub,
the harder it comes
back.
by: bailey roland

I should have realized my heart was thin, fragile
paper before you wrote
on its surface in pen.

Let me tell you, I thought I knew love before you came around.

I mean, I’ve written a million love poems.

But the subjects, they’re more or less the same, black ink, red ink, graphite.

And the graphite smudges, and so the picture is never perfect.

I try to re-write it all without mistakes, but I don't have an eraser.

Which is to say that I have commitment issues, but no issue committing, I just commit all the time, to everything.

I've canoodled with paper, but there's never enough space on the page for all the love I have.

Sometimes, I’ll meet a crayon that brings some colour to my life, but they’re just too waxy and impressionable. Too immature, too naive.

Naive.

I’ve never actually been in love.

But you, you are so much different and way hotter.

You bring a spark into my life that I’ve never known.

Baby, you set my world on fire.

I tell myself, blue pen, don’t let this go up in smoke.

Let me tell you. I would do anything to know love.

You see, there isn’t much to me, but I’ve got this way with words and I’ll write you into every poem that’s ever birthed hope in the eyes of star-crossed lovers.

I’ll draw you a map of my heart so when you feel lonely after you’ve been put aside and forgotten in the back of a cupboard, I’ll be there.

I want you.

I want the good things and your sweet embrace of smoke smells really good right now.

I want the good things but I’ll take it all. I’ll take the bad things too.

Fill my lungs with your poison, show me what it’s like to love something so much it kills you.

Teach me how to give all of myself to someone just so they are satisfied, even if it leaves me crushed on the cement.

Let me become addicted to you.

My whole life is written in ink and I can’t escape the mistakes I’ve made so if you’ll have me, here I am.

I can’t guarantee that I’ll be right for you, who knows what you write with but I will be here.

Let me tell you, I will still love you after watching you kiss the lips of every person that craves your taste.

I will still love you after you steal the oxygen out of helpless gasps and sunken cheekbones.

I will still love you after your temper sets forests ablaze.

I will still love you when you suffocate me in your fumes, leaving me choking on everything I should have said to you.

I will still love you when you burn out and your ember softens against a pillow of ash, and your smell, your taste, your everything lingers in the air like a nostalgic dream that I never want to wake up from.

Let me tell you, I am forever.

I am infinite and I can create and write anything you want, even if it’s just prose on a piece of paper or a picture of the moon on nights when you’re the only good left in the world.

I can be anything you want, and if that is someone that will love you because they want to, and not because they have to, then I will be that.

I won’t quit you.

I can’t.