commitment[problem]

please
do not doubt
the depth of my feeling
for you.
know instead it
is my scared heart,
running like mad,
so afraid of being
ruined
that it never begins
to live.
know that i hope i never run.
why do you think
i hold on so tightly?
in the middle of the night,
i am just as scared of me
foolishly leaving you,
as you, leaving me

apathy amounts to

i used to keep journals,
jotting my days until they seemed
to bleed into the paper.
you never realize that you
are dead
until someone tells you -
and you go back,
poring over the entries
one by one - i swear
i am alive...
when did it change?
when was i finally pronounced
DOA
when walking these halls...

numb

is it bad
when you can't feel yourself
at all?
i am beginning
to believe
i don't exist.

pear scent

here, these days
a touch is too much
my skin crumbles at the sight of you.
i can still see the scars
thin white lines we share.
you mean too much to me -
one Whisper and nothing else matters.
cold fingers pryed you away
they were mine, they were yours
anybody could have taken this.
our bond - too precious to last,
too painfully eloquent
with nothing but wistful smiles.
i wished and waited for time enough -
one long night to say goodbye.

while you were trying to mold me into someone else

and what a blasphemous
prophet am i
tripping out my destruction
in softly rounded letters
bitter regret for future
circumstances
and what was i thinking
who was i kidding
the dysfunction, tears
and angry silences
could never have constructed
a marriage.
i never could have played a
housewife right,
no.
you always knew who i
was, and i'm angry
yes,
so goddamned angry
that you never accepted
what you saw.

home

you were beautiful, leaning
against the barre - your
old home - how could you
ever have left?
and i suppose we all
wish we could be you -
to have a second shot
among the stage lights -
for it not to be too late,
for the injuries to
disappear...
to go home again.

Aphrodite Mourning

if it matters how many
years it has been, i care not
years are mere minutes, it
only happened minutes ago
his dark head bowing to the ground
blood pooling to create the windflowers -
and they are everywhere this season,
like cheerful reminders of my pain
beautiful stabbing heartache.
i am no more what once i was
my beauty lost and torn
among his final bloody breaths
in his death rattle and descent
into the underworld.
my tears have poured, trying vainly
to heal the eternal open wound.
ay, Adonis, lovely creature
you did not even hear me in
those final moments, you were
too far gone
to feel my lips caress you
for the final time.

self-reflection

i don't bother
looking in the mirror much
anymore;
i know
what i'll find.

tell me dear

tell me
pull me
pushing fingers
into my belt loops, hands
guiding my hips to look
straight into your eyes,
"i love you,"
the way we play
with grownup words
and infatuated glances
lips insistent
and oh-so-gratifying
we'll make love,
we'll lie together
and say "don't leave,
just stay for a while."
we'll be perfectly content
to be discontent
with the small amount of time
we have -
we'll gasp our goodbyes
with laughing eyes
and flushed faces.

escaping

it's a drowsy freedom
the early a.m. hours
low lights low on gas
low on everything else
low on life
we escape temporarily
stretching the hours
to fit our needs
wasting ourselves in
drunken bars
for meaningless hours
we drive to leave -
we should just keep
driving, we'd forge
something out of
the nothing we left behind -
but we return every morning,
sorrows half-drowned
in the night.

self-fulfulling prophecy

i seem
incapable
of becoming
anything other than
the jaded bitch
i've always
claimed to be.

you know it's over when

coming to the park,
searching vainly for the graffiti
that held your names, promising forever
only, you can't find it -
it's covered by more years of love, loss, and
cock jokes
you no longer remember the precise spot he carved it;
the blade is a distant memory,
the split a recent one.
you only want the evidence
to remain, you want everyone
to remember:
once, you were deliriously
happy together

is this it?

close my eyes...
my whole body shakes
dried blood morning,
broad daylight dried blood
on my arm. i didn't
bother washing it off.
my whole body
shakes i can feel it
close my eyes lie down
i can feel it, like drug
withdrawal, can't stop trembling.
as i'm curled here
on the couch thinking,
how sad would it be
for him to find me
here on his couch in
broad daylight,
i didn't take the pills with
food, i took too many.
give me an hour
i'll be...fine.

i'm okay, then.

"are you okay?" she asks me.
"define okay," i say.
"breathing."




what does it say about me,
that i live through being
close to death?
that sickness, pale flesh
is welcome?
death is becoming an
answer to the problem
that is posed by you?
go on, tell me what a SICK FUCK
i've become.

i don't do drugs, i just abuse myself

you know what started
the entire problem -
you never accepted me
as myself.
you painted portraits of me,
and made yourself believe
i was not the strung-out creature
you saw...
you refused to see me
as i was, scars and all
you pasted cover-up over
my wounds,
and fed me, built me up,
knowing all along
i was sure to fail.
when she pried me away
from you,
you just stood there, watching.
you knew all along;
i knew all along
i could never be your perfect girl.

trust me, there's nothing to believe.

my pain could do me in
or so could my blade.
two sharp jabs and long
draws up the arms
paralleling the veins.
bisecting the angry scratches
- my mutilated arms -
don't you think they're beautiful?
god
damn
fucking
beautiful?
call me selfish.
call me a poser.
i don't give a damn.

"happy"

i covered it all up
so i seemed "safe"
and if i'd had any idea
i would have tried deeper
harder
i would have been
perfectly sliced to pieces.

2 pills i took to keep from destroying myself

And i know this is fucked up
but now it's you i'm bleeding for
and if i were you i'd wear it like a badge.

romancing the blade

you're such a quiet companion
you only demand what i want to give
you need only what i desire
and i would give anything
to be alone with you now
we could let the blood out together
create beautiful slashes
colors i love...
red on white
i can almost feel the sweet agony
and i've gone for far too long,
ignoring your call,
my precious razor.

Liar*

i hold (or try) the twisted tissue
under my splayed, sticky fingers,
subcutaneously grasping
the slicksharp edge agony

sprawling in
a cemetery, waiting
for the flow
to slow
to walk back to my room, wrap
up in tight-tourniquet tape

have
no idea how
it happened, must have
accidentally hit
something, didn’t notice
when i did it
(god, that’s big)
at work, broken glass,
the cat scratched my arm…
scraped it
on the sharp metal trim
in my car, falling off. really.
i swear.





*also in my senior thesis. unlike many other poems also in my thesis, this went under extensive revision, whereas other ones i used mostly in their original state. i noticed while revising and re-revising my thesis, that it didn't seem to matter how old a poem was; some poems come out fully formed, and others start an idea that you later have to bring out of the original poem, and expound upon. no one hits perfection every time, especially without revision.