your pupils were swollen
your body was emaciated
i hadn’t seen you in about a month
i guess your habits had gotten worse
i looked into your sunken eyes
i examined your lifeless face
i stared at your sweater, the one that used to fit you
it was now masking your boney body
the body i used to think was so beautiful
we talked for a while
you heard i still had a boyfriend
i was still “the one who got away,” you said
but i was just the one who didn’t give in
you stood towering above me
you asked me questions, but your eyes stared down at my torso, my lips
your usual bullshit
the shit that i called you out on from the start
my ability to see right through you, it’s what you liked about me most…
i wish i could say it was nice to see you
i wish i could say you looked like you were doing well
but all i could think of when leaving that bar was how lonely you were
how sad you had become
and how i wish you would replace your love for powder with your love for life

falling in love with a ghost is a funny thing
when you wake up one morning and realize
the person you are living for
does not exist
the sting is not as bad as expected
at first there are
tears
screams
shock, yes
but then… the peaceful realization of
what you already knew
his words are made up
his fingers never touched you
he is a coveted illusion
for being so foolish, self-hatred will take over
but then… the remembrance that
ghosts are the best at playing tricks on the living

i think about you sometimes
you told me you drew pictures of me
painted my face late at night in your attic
filled journals with poems about my skin and touch
i looked at you so curiously
wondering
how one can draw and paint and write and bleed for someone so intimately
when they have never touched
kissed
sucked
licked
or scratched them
i tried to hide my disbelief
i asked if i could see these pieces
you refused
your work is private to the world
i looked at you and my mind flashed to your studio
i tried to make up your art in my head
nothing i thought of was half as beautiful as the reality, of this i am sure
i destroyed you time and time again
you were beautiful sometimes
i was ugly most of the time
we were friends that never were

we took a bath in a tiny tub
it was in a tiny bathroom
in a tiny room, but
for the night, it was ours
i felt large in the tiny tub
i tried to hide my stomach with my legs
he pulled them down and kissed me all over
each kiss melted onto my skin and i relaxed
we sat there in the tiny tub
without a word spoken, we stared at each other
the only light we had was the sun from the window, and it was starting to fade
his body was so beautiful
muscular and smooth, and it looked even better when it was next to mine
i watched as the sun set and his eyes turned from crystal blue to grey
his eyes looked at my body all over
my scars, my cellulite, my bitten nails, my ratty hair, my tiny breasts
he looked at me as if he had never seen another woman before
each moment he stared i felt cleansed, i felt pure
i felt renewed in the tiny tub
we sat until the water turned tepid and the sun was gone
we kissed and got up and dried off in the darkness
quietly thinking about our innocent, peaceful bath time
the love we felt for each other
and how perfect life was

the breakup

the owl cried
again
again
and again
“i haven’t heard an owl since i lived in tucson”
you whispered
as the tears ran down your cheek and landed on my elbow
it was the first thing
other than sobs and anger
that came from your mouth for an hour
i laid crying
hearing your voice made me moan louder
the owl mimicked me
he moaned back
he must have found my sorrow comforting
for tonight he did not hoot at the moon
he hooted at me
i hooted back
he hooted at you
you hooted back
the three of us
lonely
the three of us
angry
the three of us
hoping our noises would bring us something more than silence
more than fellow cries
owl
you
me
we were the only three in the world that night
broken, wandering souls
unsure of why we’re crying so loudly
so uncontrolably
but hoping that tomorrow
our cries will be for a reason
much different
than this

uninspired 2/27

i’m not interested in your art
it is my art
i want to pay attention to
i’ve been so addicted to
so distracted by
your art
how easy it is to regard other people’s
expression
other people’s
pain
other people’s
feeling
i seem to suppress my own because of
vulnerabilty
lack of trust in my hand’s ability
in my mind’s creations
i don’t know how to express my art most of the time
this day keeps me too drunk on technology
on commercialism
on consumerism
to confront my own art
my art has been lost
this place does not ask me to find it
it stays lost
my being is less
authentic
and deteriorates each day
i may not have my art yet
but i seem to feel your art is all
the same

everything is red
surrounded in warmth
red is all i see
your fingers paint crimson on my back
with each touch my body feels
the burn
the heat
the strength
swallowed up
i swim
hoping red will forever be
what engulfs me

Here we are again
It has become such a routine
What a delicious act to become so addicted to
We’ve memorized each other like we have no one else
You know what I know but the world doesn’t
I know what you know but the world doesn’t
The other souls stare with jealousy
Isn’t that lovely?
You are so lovely
Here we are again
You are so lovely
With your ability to destroy me and at the same time bring me to life
I remember the day it all changed
I can never go back
I am forever changed
The definition I had so deeply ingrained in my head
The way I thought it should be
Were empty feelings
Was a superficial act
All at once I feel as if all the drugs in the world are pumping through my body in a perfect harmony as I am set free
Ecstasy
Euphoria
The thoughts run around in my brain
“Has everyone had the chance to feel like this?”
“Do people know that this is possible?”
“What an idiot I’ve been letting people become a part of me before this.”
The fire inside my every molecule continues to burn
I am so high I never want to come down
You are so lovely
You are me
I am you
You are the only other soul who knows what my every molecule is feeling
I can tell my the way your eyes look at me
We tell each other poems, stories, novels within a single look
My body starts to come down
My mind stops asking so many questions
But I don’t mind
You are still so lovely
And I can feel this way anytime I want
Here we are again

we make love
differently than most
we make love fully clothed
his kisses wet and perfect slowly lead up and around my face
we make love when our hands, our fingers
are intertwined
pressed together so tightly our skin becomes one
we make love while in a room full of people
he looks at me without a word and it’s as if he has engulfed my every molecule
my every thought
his eyes scream he never wants to let go

you’re so lonely?
well, fuck you
your bed is cold and empty
and you constantly dream about the past
wake up, making love to your bed sheets
do they smell of that rose oil i bought?
well, it’s all in your head
you wonder about the day we will speak again
as if those thoughts didn’t take up enough of your time
the regrets in your head start to scream
they take over
they repeat
people don’t do that to people they love
they don’t do that to people they love
they don’t do that to people they love
as you think about what you did
you scream
but i don’t care enough to hear you
you’re so lonely?
well, fuck you

we sat on the curb in the dark of the parking lot
i wore gloves, he wore a hood that made it impossible to see his face
we exhaled warm smoke
his lips were dry against mine
we talked about the start
about how things could have been
he laughed about how i was never shy, about how i was always myself
i laughed about how shy he was, yet how nervous he made me
it was too cold, our breath showed up like ghosts
we went inside and laid on top of each other like we do each night
we were almost asleep
he sat up
he said he was in love with me
i knew he would that night
i could read it his eyes
i kissed him
my lips pressed against his shoulder
we slept

it amazes me
how a person
who used to send chills down your spine with
a single look
turns into
a person who doesn’t cross
your mind
for days
weeks
lifetimes

i kept on talking in between your kisses tonight
i would talk on your lips
i wish i didn’t, they’re what i needed
i get scared from your perfect affection
you make things so simple and beautiful
stop
but please never do

i call him killer
he knows this
i die and come back to life and die again
not the death i’ve felt before of naked emptiness
a peace
my sheets are covered in blood

i am a dreamer, i am a romantic, my heart’s too big, my love’s too big, and it hurts everyday to be this way. let it hurt, i couldn’t imagine being anything less, expecting anything less, needing anything less.