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bitter lingers in your mouth like the taste of throwing up just so you could say you did

like when your eyes stop blinking but instead of getting warm they freeze over like a duck pond in winter

like when you lie about seeing a snake in the woods for a story to tell someone you don’t know

like when you cry on someone’s shoulder and then run away to hide

like when wet clothes make you cold and sullen for fear of being too skintight a person

like when shoes are too small for you and filled with dried up puddles of summer water

like when your finger bones are thin and crispy like vanilla cookie wafers

like when your body observes its surroundings and sheds them like oil feathers on water

like when you clench your fists in groups of five, just to see who notices

like when a swollen purple hand sounds better than any burning drink from any favourite tumbler

like when you pick out the most sugary cereal just so you can cry about it two nights later

like when you chop off all your hair to see if anyone stops you to ask- is it a sign?

I miss you.

I know it’s silly,
but I want to be where you are, I want you to show me off,
and run your fingers through my hair.

I want you for such selfish reasons,
I want you because you make my worries curl away,
in little licks of flame.

But if I wanted you for selfless reasons,
it would be conceited,
because then,
I’d be assuming that I make your worries drip to the ground like candle wax,
when really maybe I just make the wax gather at your feet until you’re stuck in place.

the stars have fallen off my ceiling but I didn’t put them back on and I’m sure that’s important symbolically in a way I haven’t noticed yet

my favorite pen ran out of ink and the new one I’m using is the same shape but at the beginning of each sentence it skips a few letters and that might be a clever metaphor for something I don’t understand

I owe like thirty dollars to the library which might not seem like a matter of life and death but believe me it’s a contributing factor and if that’s not some deep manufactured use of poetic devices then I don’t know what is

why do men always say

“look at me”

and then tilt up your chin when you don’t

there are some days when every part of me is too sharp and I have a lot of gaping holes that get caught on doorknobs when I walk by

i
when I see the sun setting I always expect to turn in the opposite direction and see it setting there, too.
Like a whole day passes in the sky while we all sleep underneath it.

ii
it’s interesting that there is one earth with one sun and one moon, but there are many many people and many animals and blades of grass,

and on our just one moon there are no people but there are very many rocks and bits of dust like fog in the air,

and on our lonely sun there is only fire, bright orange type stuff that is beautiful enough to actually make you see stars (or one star at least)

iii
so if the moon and the earth and the lonely sun are each the only of their species, why do all the people, the earth-bound people, feel so strictly alone?

it’s nice to imagine the face you make when you’re asleep.
you probably look like a little boy, except the tiny bit of stubble that’s always on your cheeks.
if I was there right now and you were sleeping, I would want to kiss the little hollows in your cheeks and brush your hair off your forehead.
and then I would snuggle up beside you and it would be nice because I’d know that even if I turned over,

you’d be waiting for me to turn back around when the sun came full circle.

when I sit down I keep my thighs hovering above the bench (or couch or whatever)
so that they look thinner than they are

sometimes when I’m around this boy I forget to think about not letting my thighs touch the bench (or couch or whatever)
and it’s nice because he (this boy) doesn’t seem to care about my thighs or really even anything that I hate

it’s amazing actually because he said that I’m beautiful when all I am really is not letting my thighs touch the bench (or couch or whatever)
so that I look skinny

This boy he is special

People always talk about how the snow makes everything so beautiful. So covered in white, like a duvet keeping the whole world warm. So thick and dusty, like someone sifted powdered sugar onto the earth like it was a crepe.

But, in the city the snow just makes everything uglier. It gathers up on the sides of the road and gets stale and grey from exhaust. It melts slowly and selectively, leaving little patches and lumps mixed with mud and acid rain. The trees get pale and lonely, and nobody moves away the heaps of white piled at their feet.

In the city, snow is less like a soft white duvet, and more like God has jizzed all over the whole world.

you make me feel as though I am running down a concrete hill and
my feet are making slapping sounds on the pavement and
as I get closer and closer I
move faster and faster until I am not really running
it is more like I’m jumping leaping flying throwing myself into the air
into your arms and

leaving all of my failures fallacies empty mistakes behind me underneath the cracks my soles leave in the sidewalk and
I am infallible beautiful free and
I am on the one person one girl one being that is allowed to call you my own allowed to make you a possessed noun
allowed to touch you like you are mine because you are mine,

or as close to being mine as anyone has ever been

I lied

I lied and you should hate me

I lied and I want to slice my skin open and get in a fist fight and sleep all day in your arms

I lied and I want you to wrap me in a towel and tell me it’s going to be ok and rock me back and forth

I lied and I like the way my hand fits into yours like I’m a little girl and you’re supposed to take care of me

I lied and I like violence too much and my hair is always messy when I’m with you and I forget to think about it sometimes

I lied and I wore skirts every day this week and all I want is for the tops of my thighs to be warm to the touch and preferably your touch

I lied and you should call me names
I lied and I am stupid and you are smart so you should find someone better
I lied

I really do not want you to find someone better

my shoes were too small
and the one thing you were supposed to be was proud of me
and you weren’t

i don’t know what to do
my shrink told me to stop doing it if i want to stop
it’s sad when even your shrink gives up on you

i wondered if I should stop trying
stop doing anything for you and start doing things for me

but i just carry blindly on

tilted head is a sign someone likes you
I guess I like everyone
people say I remind them of doves and does
delicate fragile /inquisitive/ animals
I remind me of nothing no animals
I tilt my head and like everyone and
I just want everyone to like me back
everyone should like me back

everyone should
everyone

I don’t know