Like a thorn inside her logic
There is no reason
Still, she goes on missing you
Abusing the imagination
She inserts herself inside of old memories,
Like a doll inside a dollhouse.
So she can play again.
The thorn is aware,
That life is supposed to be lived
With or without you.
But the fate of no longer having you
to call upon,
or to even call at all,
Digs the thorn in deeper
deeper than any professional could remove.
And so she carries on,
To think I’d seen the light.
When the light was within me.
To think blame would take the pain away,
remove everyone around me
My thoughts prompt a result unstoppable
I have fallen victim to my own cries.
A decade later, I am still swimming the same seas in hopes to make it to shore.
With dreams reoccurring to teach me
What is my lesson, and why does it seem illegible to read?
the same faces come to me while I am dancing on a melatonin high
I just want to be who I thought I would grow into being.
For now, there may be rhyme,
but no reason.
when i don't mean what I say
and my secrets mean nothing to the stars
i slip myself out of your pockets;
rid myself from the burning capture of your looking glass
squinting eyes attempt to see the full picture
while my tired, achy feet glide barefoot across the floor beneath me
what is the distant memory
further locked in mind over time?
a lazy-susan, mental prison that won't stop spinning
grips me dizzy,
loves me madly
Will i always be so thirsty?
Will i always be so distant from everyone who tries to love me?
Will my brain retrain my heart to stay intact?
what did life feel like at 3 feet tall,
with hands too small to fracture?
what will the sky taste like the moment I realize why it is I'm here?
It was fathers day
a weak kneed holiday
drizzled on the calendars like a storm warning
All I could do was promise
that there was life after July
the desperation within my lies on fire
there was still so much music we hadn’t heard
so many places our first-class tickets had yet to expose
but with death knocking down our front door
time started to leak from our faulty kitchen sink.
the yard needed trimming
we sat side-by-side against a sorbet sky
dissecting the life we had just began living
your prescription pills provided goodnight kisses to sleepy lashes
I was swimming through a summer high
I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough
But the cut runs deep on unconscious memory
It might not be enough to entitle me
to speak publicly
When even law enforcement refused to believe me
Still they took evidence
Stripped my bed of the sheets he was never welcomed in
friends had no sympathy
Instead they ran my mental faucet on
“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE a, b, and c”
Until my mind was flooded with mistake
still no memory
I never received an apology,
from the boy I sought friendship from
I was a kite blinded by my own sun
But maybe boys are not meant to be our friends
Maybe the division between us that began in grade school is not far removed from where we are today
All I know is that I want to avoid all of them
When they smile at me it’s as if you’re sharpening their knives and forks against my skin
And my heart races,
knowing all they crave is to taste the day they can take a bite of me
There have been so many,
who disregarded all the hard work I have put in
To cease the tears,
to trust again.
I hope this get easier
I hope I can find fresh air inside an elevator alone with a man i don’t know
Like a normal person
Because until then,
it is like an endless chase
where I cant seem to run further away from the distress
until misogyny is put to rest
let’s go back to being strangers
where we don’t stand too close to each other’s shadow
you can ask how I feel about the weather
or play my favorite song– curious which piece resonates with me,
without truly knowing
Lets forget the spelling our each others last names
like I haven’t imagined your name encompassing mine in matrimony
until the blood runs dry
and you cant hear me weeping
your hands have not been taught to hold delicately
which is where I find myself
forced to fall asleep, without touch
against your cactus garden
Is it dancing red dresses, pink sashes and strong hands sweeping you off your feet?
is it false eyelashes, fake boobs or padded push-up bras made to deceive how you once believed?
it three coasts of mascara? Lips lined and cheeks bronze?
is it a bad day when you look in the mirror to find your untouched, natural face un-glowing and porous?
is it high heel callouses and long walks, passing men who look thirsty,
blisters bleeding, running home fast, trying not to worry
is it fake tanner, sparkly glitter, g-strings or thongs
that ride the skin all day long?
does it pass men tight lipped, watch their eyes feast at the site of your round hips,
does it quiver in the night at the touch of your fingertips swimming down your perfectly shaved thighs?
are they separate from the other or do you weep in department store dressing rooms at the site of their close proximity?
If I wear a low cut shirt, is it an immediate invite for unwanted attention?
When I can’t ask a man a question without him losing himself in the sweat of my cleavage
Am I disappointed? Or just a disappointment?
A feminine woman,
allergic to men
and all their intentions
is a prisoner in question
Too femme to catch the eye of women on the street
a high-heeled, long walk home,
an invisible feat for such heavy feet.
Let me unravel
Let my teeth sink sharply into your shoulder blades when you press yourself on top of me
Let me guide you like a falling star
Where I’m hot and waiting to be filled by you
Let my lips etch the outline of your body until you are brand new
Let my fingertips loose themselves inside the deepest lotus
Let my tongue dance against your rhythm
Let me hold your wrists
I want you begging for air while begging for me to choke you
Let me show you what it’s like to get lost
By finding ourselves all over again