"the coming of christ" or "american idol is on"

i am inside the lone

moment

of silence

nonchalant noise from other hotel rooms

dim lights, stripped bare

here on the edge of my seat

i am finally alone

american idle

family leans in to 

watch

to 

believe

as blood pumps through my veins,

the world is slowly turning

more than anything in the world

thursday

seems like a leap year day that never comes

here we are,

and i'm telling you, i haven't felt like this

for two years

i haven't felt like this,

maybe, 

ever in my life

to be honest, with you

we wasted 

this world

like cigarette 

smoke wasted

smooth

family 

pearls

and this living room with a tv set

is full of wasted potential

and eventual regret

your bedroom lamp is out

the light is gone 

but it really never shined that bright to begin with,

to be honest

we will think about the days gone by, 

where the sun never went down

don't know why

and the moon set the standard for the shining stars

but we forgot our own standards 

where are we now?

limbo

i guess we can't wait

no point in hesitation

well behaved actions aren't actions at all

and you rarely hear people

who got nothin to say

this is what a feminist looks like

she's haunted
haunted by the girl she wishes she could be
you might know her
she's as alive as a barbie
her cold bony skeleton envies skinny men, skinny women
trapped inside her body like it's a guantanamo prison
watching blank thin faces, washing tears from her cheek
knowing no one will listen if she bothers to speak
she likes to think that feminism is coming back
and winding pro-choice women's prophecies into pop culture
digital crap
she likes to think that one day
she won't be a symbol for sex
and that men and women themselves
will realize she's complex

PASSIONATE!!!

after one of our rough nights,

i lay awake and think how much happier we would be

if we'd cuddled and watched a movie

i wouldn't trade any of it, that used plastic

that you rolled on to keep me safe

second to turning my head 

in those moments

and looking into your 

sleepy 

eyes

i don't want to get hurt

i'm delirious

i can't tell where i'll be in a year,

and i'm scared

tell me

you'll always be there for me

that is bleak

monday morning

gray

silence

whispers in your

ear

feel it down your 

back

prickling skin

dry tongue 

only the poets 

prod the day with the whites 

of their eyes

(unstained, cherry red)

the rest mutter

faithlessly 

and settle back into the gloom

tender in its place

i'm gonna lay it out for you

i'll push the corners neatly into place as i explain

how i tear myself apart

so scared to say i need you

when tears keep sliding down,

down the corners of my eyes

i washed my hair for you

wore lace thongs

sprayed perfume on the nape of my neck,

tenderly spread strawberry chapstick over my lips,

curled the blonde lashes that hold tears like a ladder,

like i'm waxing poetic

and then, it all seems to go to shit

i realize that none of that matters when

i don't matter

no scintillating, orderly routine can make me

good enough

no powder

no rose sparkles spread on my cheeks

there are a million ways to comfort yourself

but they only last until you say,

what do you want from me?

and i can't supply an answer

except to say,

love. replacement.

it's just so

"i don't wonder why i love you i don't have to know.
it's just so.
i adore you from your head down to your baby toe.
it's just so.
sometimes i get scared and hesitate because it seems strange to be so intimate.
it makes me uncomfortable but i'll get used to it.
i don't want to hide it now i need to let it show.
it's just so.
when you hold me close i feel a warm and happy glow.
it's just so.
somtimes i'm unsure if you're the one or my best friend who i'm clinging to.
my feelings change so quickly so i'll trust you to lead me."

the teeth behind kisses

"i'm practicing my plane crash face in a first class lav
coughing up my words like a sullen kitten

i'm rolling my cuts in the dirt to keep them from showing

guess who's coming to dinner?
(that's what the ghost of someone's dad might say)

if you've got plastic tits, grills,
or some kinda bling, i don't know you.
if you wear first hand clothes and get your hair cut by somebody you don't know,
i'm below you."

placing bets, pt. 2

how can i even begin to explain what you do to me. should i describe where i am and what i look like? i'm sitting barefoot in the closet with the lights off, typing thoughts with cold fingers and feeling breathlessly alone. my shoulders are hunched, my thin ribs and crooked spine promenade themselves across my back like my skeleton wants to break free. I have called the ones i love most, the ones i care about the most, and i'm not sure what part of me is grateful, but that part of me is very, very grateful.

You may not understand that i am trapped in a thin cage,

that as i describe where i am and how i look, the tempo of my shaking body increases ever so slightly,

you may not understand that

but i never thought you would

and i'm glad you don't

part of me is glad you don't

just come and take me away. i've decided what i want. some people might be hurt, and i might feel the scratches of karma on my soul, but i have done what i needed to do. i have rolled my dice into a dark corner

and i have no choice, i must go pick them up