12 February 2017

Pixels

Dry lipstick
fills small cracks
with confidence,
otherwise
I am a fuckup
in a dark room,
eyes fixed on a mirror
and I swear I am pixels.
I swear I am an image.
I touch my lip
and red pours out,
fills a glass.
I am thirsty, so I drink.
I drink to be real.
Please, hold my glass,
hold me, hold me.



30 January 2017

Cold war

when all I want
is for you
to be proud of me
and I wait
for an answer:
the crackers
liquify
in your cold soup.



Coffee gone cold

In this age of second helpings
and second comings, I scour
the edges of a simple map
while you grunt disapproval.
I thought I had it in me,
but instead, I help you
straighten your tie
to reality. I know the map better
than you do, but my legs are numb
and my brain is aflame,
so I don't know what to do.
Your lips flap, your mouth
laps up your coffee,
leaving small crumbs to float.
You are as careless as you are proud.
I stare at one of the crumbs,
a little brown thing lost at sea,
disposable like my loved ones.
I don't know
what you mean or what you want,
but go fuck off anyway.



22 January 2017

Dear Richard

what is your favorite meal
so that I may
poison it?

what is your least-favorite race
so that I may invite
as many as I can

to celebrate?


17 January 2017

Predictable Motions

I want to marry
a girl or a boy
and be as normative
and dehydrated as fuck,
carrying multiple infants
on my back, a soldier muscling
through the terrible terrains
of america, all soft, grey trouble.

Because I am depressed
and familiar, a pretend Sexton
with candy cigarettes,
I will require eighteen hours
in bed, smoothing my greasy bangs
close to my brow
in romantic, predictable motions.

I am a flake and a terror, but I know how to float.

I will teach you
how to swim if you teach me
how to dream.



03 January 2017

No purchase necessary

I spread my love across
separate gift cards
and payday loans.

If only the tooth fairy
still visited, I would
take pliers to my own mouth.

There is no salve
at the dollar store,
and there are no pills
at my mother's house,
and yet I still snoop
through drawers,
examine dirty shelves,
pretend to tie shoes
that are already
perfectly tight,
pretend
to be strong
when the same
questions sting.

I spread my love across
unmade beds in unwelcome homes.

In a dream, I give
my teeth to you,
and you are whole again.



13 December 2016

I Want You

I want you
to be proud of me
and have me as
your noble girl.
I want to laugh with you
and cry with you.
Can you hold my face
and wipe my tears?
I will fill your belly
and wrap your shivering body.
I will trace your features
and kiss your chin.
When the lights burn out
I will look to your eyes
and hope they will
carry me softly
to your side, where I belong.



20 November 2016

The Collector

When you loved me,
you told me secrets,
and I carefully wrapped each one
and stored them where even you
forget, under leaves and snow,
under traditions and inside jokes.
I recall the location of every truth,
hardened, even though you
are long gone, your footprints trailing.
These treasures
were not enough to keep you.
Surely, I will collect others,
squirrel them away
for a time when I am useful.



12 November 2016

More Than

I am more than
a nasty woman.
I am a bad bitch.
Get the fuck
out of my way.


10 November 2016

Fanático

Maybe there will be
buyer's remorse,
or maybe we will adapt
to the taste of blood.
I hope not,
but my brain fires
differently:
my brain is fire.
Maybe we deserve it.
This is what happens
when we find
our nooses decorative.