girls in books do not have interior lives; they are emotion, they are not Thought. And here I am, sitting alone in the dark terrified to go out terrified to stay in— if I pulled myself apart you would find text, an introversion good enough for Tolstoy, but not good enough for—who else? Who else—is… Continue reading poem: i have no reasons, i have no reason
Tag: alone
poem: girls alone go mad
keep him as an unknown, do not soil him: he is nothing yet, he is just shy; the infinity of possibility in glass lights, in small smiles. do not drain him out, or make him (yet another) overly-constructed fiction living in the city of the dead, whores cheering for rat fights and love sold like… Continue reading poem: girls alone go mad
poem: I do not want to mistake another boy’s kindness for love
Welcome To The Bottom of the Erotic. The Mood Swings Pure Chemical Hormone. I lose skin and I am watching the curtains make double-colors: the red too fresh, too fake the black like insomnia, the artist's friend, climbing in for psychotic kicks. I make my reflection in crescent nails I find that (once again) I… Continue reading poem: I do not want to mistake another boy’s kindness for love
poem: strangers three nights apart
she has made monsters and villains where there are none, where it should only be a boy and a girl. she is sitting in a shrinking place, watching the house lights dim and his shoulders fold like glass, crushing and crashing into all the Damning, as he leans into the nightscape window and counts the… Continue reading poem: strangers three nights apart
poem: therapy is cheaper when you’re in a relationship
I really must not pin hope on people who do not (yet) exist; one day, he might want to lean over the table and hold my eyes and hear the personal hell but in the tight space between 60 seconds and one minute, we are still nothing; he does not care about the damning things… Continue reading poem: therapy is cheaper when you’re in a relationship
poem: the stars turned off, for dramatic romantic effect
I imagine he needs me as much as I need him: I am not idealizing a personality, I am just making a desperate boy who lays awake and would rather have me curled into his side than to have another night spent alone, crying when the color drips, crying when he steps inside his mind… Continue reading poem: the stars turned off, for dramatic romantic effect
poem: “inside the outsider (on my own again)”
my ambitions are small things, held and taken like pills. I am unstable, crashing like clockwork; I tell people it is for the art, but I spend Monday nights alone: the cats throwing their faces at the well and laughinglaughing at the way the skulls smear. I have plans I had plans There are cities… Continue reading poem: “inside the outsider (on my own again)”
poem: night terrors for dead girls
she is split open once too often; they dip into her for communion bread, for vampire wine-tastings. she is fresco, oil on canvas, chalk, watercolor: there is something addicting about virgins, about the girls with universe side-splits and the cosmos falling out of their brains onto the dirty dirty ground. you are the monsters, catching… Continue reading poem: night terrors for dead girls
poem: pastel lust
you walked by and i, sitting in jeans and tee-shirt was suddenly a virgin in a field, my legs open over grass my fruit open and falling the daisy heads indented into my thighs, small red faces, matching mine; can you hear the water falling, the girl becoming?
poem: girl waiting alone for her lover, at dusk
I am watching the trees catch Darkness, the cupped hands, the branches, all shaking; feminity is caught tight in the branches, the men are earth and sea and sky. Night stumbles into the foreground; she is drunk, she watches her enthronement: the earth laid thin, dyed with falling eyes, faded mirth, coughing angels. This… Continue reading poem: girl waiting alone for her lover, at dusk
the last pavilion 