i don't want to be this woman-
this whore that is okay
with second best-
moments of your time-
positions without the release.
i enjoyed the nights-
but my mind deserves the day. the light
of our laughter has indeed reached me
but i wonder if that's how you'll return.
i wonder what cards you hold
when you tell me that you show them all.
i'm not stranger to the game
and you've sparked my interest-
i just wonder if you know how to end
and finish and continue playing all the same.

you entered me
and i can't imagine a world
without your smile.
we were allowed only a few moments
and the possibility of more-
if i was able to bend myself into those positions
and boxes.
time's passed and i wonder if i'll still have the energy
to fall for you. to replace parts of my flesh
with the longing of you.
healthy and unbalanced.
i cannot think of you without a smile-
even when the door's shutting behind me-
even when my purse is hidden
by the doorframe.
the absence is something
that i'm learning
and the lust is something i'm sure i could forget.

i feel the butterflies-
the edges of the world
as i push beyond my own edges.
and it's as exciting as it is nervous-
i'm making decisions
i'd normally talk myself out of.
and i'm taking life for granted
as if it will always be this free
and bendy.
not knowing that time causes us to be stiff
and as lusts passes away
the hardness remains
and creates us sour. uninterested.
i wonder when this stone is turned
if you'll think of me with fond memories
or if you'll continue to bend life
to the reality of us.
the excitement of our own blood
pursuing our hearts. pursuing the timing
that will most certainly never be right.
i wonder if the end will be enough of a push
for me to really take flight
and leave this self
that's too fond of pretenses
and a poker hand that lays on the table-
i wonder if this pushing will become
a habit
that isn't as hard to break
as your love.

your memory isn't devastating
but i'm guessing that's because you haven't left me yet-
haven't had the moment of no return
where my heart jumps from my throat
to the floor of your condo
and refuses to leave.
i've felt it-
begin the climb up my digestive system
but have been able to clamp down
bite my tongue
and cut into myself-
bring myself back to a bit of reality.
one where your past does lay plainly
in the line of sight of your future.
and you haven't begun painting yet-
i don't know if that merits stones
for my side of things.
but still, i'll return your call
when i don't have the chance to answer.
and find my lips in a smile
if they ever have a chance to capture.
and i know that i couldn't begin to offer
more than what's already been laid at your feet,
but i will promise to be me-
and will silently know that's more than you deserve
even when you open that door
and beg me to stay anyway.

mornings.
i remember the two
that i was so carefully permitted.
i remember the two
as the painting hangs in my mind-
red. gray. the rain drips over me.
and there's nothing to say, really
you don't owe me anything-
no explanation or tidal wave of emotion.
i'm not even sure there would be a tide
to rush and meet you.
but still, i'd like to think i could offer the option.
nights spent were passionate-
hazy. but safe.
and i met you in that cloud
you were under.
i begin to wonder, as sand moves on,
which rock you really thew
and what want you desire.
will you open yourself to that fear
or is this over before the game
even begins?

i can sit here and write-
reach you with words
that are two dimensional
and try to communicate what i need
but they will most certainly
fall on deaf eyes
because you're too caught-
too snagged by life
and your past luggage
that keeps moving with you.
i understand the need-
i understand the separation you keep-
that you're blessed to live entire months
but my weeks are held different.
my weeks without you
are painted gray
and i fight constantly
to maintain
my spirit and shoes.
there is danger in not knowing
your power
and i know you've only just begun
down this stony path
of indecision.

i begin to wonder
why it is that you escape me-
create me whole and broken
fallen on wings of inspiration and dream.
i want you.
there is no doubt in that-
even in distance and misery
i find myself silently
tossing pieces of myself ino the streams
of loneliness.
just wishing for a bread crumb in return.
and you know all the right ways
to react. to reach me.
to spread your words across my flesh
like dirty whores perfecting their craft.
my soul cries out for you
as if a junkie going through withdraw.

a breath.
and i try to sooth myself.
knowing full well that it'll never be enough-
i'll never get that fix again.
not when laughter is poor
and your history
is what saves the day.

space apart.
distance and repetition.
you'll think of me
and picture gray.
you'll think of me
and picture red.

the boxes you've put me in
aren't anything compared to the positions-

you'll smile when you picture me.
think that you're winning.
think that i'm pining away.

in the end you'll be wrong,
but right now i cannot pretend-
there is a loneliness that comes from loving you
and that'll be what saves me.
the gray that finally gets into my head.

the absence of your smile
doesn't affect me
as much as the memory.
the thought reaches out-
crawls into my brain
and camps out.

the sun turns and eventually
eats a way into my heart-
a cavity awaits you when you return.

i don't know the date-
don't know the memorized lines,
should i be practicing now?

you return in two weeks
and i'm not sure i've had anything to say,
there's darkness in the summer-
the cool beating of my organs,
and the laughter of grass.

come lay with me, it beckons.
and even though time apart
creates me able to believe i've resisted
i know the call of green
will reach within my patience
and turn me around as a fool.

fall for you. that step would be easy-
get caught up- i've already done.
to stay laying on the ground,
is not something i've rehearsed
nor am prepared to do.
so after this falling,
will i turn the heel of my come-fuk-me shoe?

you'd like me to say
that you're the one-
my thursday night. friday morning.
month long fling
that i'll wake up and love-
wake up and believe.

you paint me with this smile-
hair perfect-
posture tall.
you have yet to open your eyes-
you want me to want you
but you don't even want yourself-

how is that supposed to draw me in-
your allure is self-prophesized
and the time has yet to begin-
pour more honey over this bed
i'll lie. turn over. and walk out in the end.

i still wait here-
with images of what i think
i should want.
they always seem one-sided
and melodramatic.
pieces of hair
from a cut
that i can't seem to remember
never mind the photo that proves i was there.

logic dances beside me
and i know i should be forced to listen
but your words, though present, are hollow
and my interest lies elsewhere.

does that edge cut at you?
it wasn't intentional. something a bit sagittarius,
if i'm able to blame it on the stars.

it is not i who thinks
you are the one for me.
i wouldn't ever want to bear that cross
nor trudge up that hill
in a self-righteous misery.

yes, you lost your way when you loved me
but i never asked for your teeth
and blood-
nor did i demand any path of your veins
i can love myself either way
and don't have the need
to wash my hair
in the essence of someone else's hopes
even if you're already bathing me in you dreams-
i'm just not that sort of gurl

I wore mascara today-
lengthened my lashes
hoping for a glimpse
of someone else in that mirror-
same old gurl today.

not that it should matter-
you wouldn’t love me either way.
you don’t have the capability
and my patience ran dry yesterday.

there are loves like that
beginning and never progressing-
always set on pause. Never going to move to resume
or laughter.

And I could stay here.
with you
who doesn’t notice how hard I try-
pathetic sweeps of makeup
begging for attention- a lil bit past lust
but I don’t have the heart
that endures subtitles
and a stranger’s vain attempt
to explain the geography.

controlled.
predictable.
excitement
and you are nothing i expected
but all that i dreamt.
did you meet me there
or was saturday your first glance?

there should be protocol for this
a lil guidance-
direction.
instead of the free falling that's
been reaching my heart.
my heart
which days earlier.
moments before
was beyond climbing
the wall too high
and i have a fear of heights

you didn't even pause-
listened
but then pushed on.

and i trusted you.

wednesday afternoon
whatever it'll lead to
will be forever remembered by mind
and beyond skin.

-a.

there's an excitement
a pause of anticipation
beginnings started
where no beginning should have been
but then- i have never been good at rules
so this is all pretty predictable
except for the day-
the sun. heat.
the nervous terror
that pulsated through my body.
you told me jump
and i refused
but maybe you aren't good at obeying
'cause you made me.
falling in such control
slowly towards you.
safe. and scary.
desire burning deep
and i realize the wall
has been torn
heart still somewhat hidden
but beating. alive. wanting.
awake.
i'm smiling
which isn't strange
but the dreams of expected snow
are a bit startling.
wondering if that stone will be thrown-
wondering if this scar
will disappear.

-a.

you're almost forbidden to me
but not in any sense of fruit
i know i could entice you
have previously
and still am interested
but i don't need to confuse you.
single celled organism
one functioning brain.
a fear of commitment
is part of the game.
i play it well
and yet don't view you as an opponent
maybe you were the start
although the gurl in me
hopes you're the end
but i will take you
as just a stopping point
i'll never hold my breath that long.
have learnt that lesson
memorized where the hurt fits
and the limit of bend.
i can please in most positions-
making you believe i'm on my knees
before you realize
i'm already out that door.

-a.

the first word with you-
in the beginning and such
i cannot remember
but i feel the smile
and how my body reacted
bending with your whisper
and rising with your breath.
i fell for you
because that's what
i think a lady's to do
but i bit back
and that surprised you.

i remember mornings after
and the hangover of
what i thought was love
and you considered to be a good lay.

i learnt
after meeting you-
the control i had
even when you held all my cards.
my body and mask of innocence
are too much baiting
and far too seductive
to be anything but scandalous.

the hot summer nights
that sweetened into winter.
we still held excuses to not care
and yet continue.

a mild addiction
that would never say no
and never wish to be silenced into day.

-a.

the dream
is too vivid-
i've painted it too well over the years.
there's no heaven
that will lay that way.
turning-
i beg. plead.
compromise
and return
calling out to you
in night
tangled in sweat. sheets. longing.
you are the missing piece
and yet you'll never leave.
the absence of you
lingering forever on my skin
like a finger print.

-a.

i've never been a fan of fragile
the pause
and motion forward
with the air of manipulation-
you'd never suspect me
but be constantly considering the option.
there's this shadow to me-
moment of mystery
even though
i've left all my cards on the table.
the game is
always a game-
even with these words-
even with
everything i've never wanted.
i'll still play forward
and win
only to get up and walk away.

-a.

deserted blue mug
half full of coffee
not missing any love
just enjoying the sun
on its perch
the day goes by slowly
time not measured out evenly
giving the chance to dream.

a moment to pause
reflect. begin.
the realization of dead moments
is not a reassuring one
but life rarely gives you
the chance
to stop and recollect.

so there's this.
a thursday morning
faded into friday afternoon
and i'm reminded
that your absence
will be forever embedded in me.

-a.

there's more
than routine
and day-to-day.
you say you love the small things
but never pause
to appreciate them-
you're more rush in
to meet my blood
and slip out
before you get wet.
And i do love the intensity-
the heat
but there's no preparation for fire
and the spark dies
quicker than the flame.

-a.

another cup of coffee-
i'm drinking
as if i'll find the answer
somewhere buried within the caffeine.
the only thing i'm accomplishing
is a foggier shade of reality
an overindulgent perspective
where you never left me
in this kitchen. in this light.
alone.
i still have bailey.
and my suitcase
leans against the door frame.
sad reminders of youth
and a love
unspent.
i was far too careful
with matters of the heart
that i forgot about the body
and the needs of humanity.

this loss
will forever remind me of that.

-a.

i'm sick
the morning makes it hard
for me to breathe
there is absence
and there is you.
life tends to get in the way.
my way,
because i let it.
these shoes society bought me
don't fit
but i try daily anyway-
finding
that my toes would rather
the feeling of sand.
dirt. grass.
the image of toes rings
and funky colors in the sun.
i feel you smiling
and it embraces me.
damn this world
and my idiotic mind!
telling me not to let go,
challenging me to prove my own.

this business suit may fit
but these give me blisters.
my hand that reaches out
has fingers
that dream of lingering on your body
writing a love story
upon your soul.

-a.

you don't understand
a life like that-
plucked. pruned-
manicured into existence-
the beginning may have been messy
but the ending
is well executed.
i learnt like that
split second thought
and whim decisions
no chance to cry
once the heart leaves
and passion remains.

there's an absence.
i can feel the distance-
more cruel than usual.
i drop a stone
into the well of our being,
of our love
and i hear no echo.
no sound.
no splash.
i'm still waiting.
maybe for confirmation
maybe for a small sound of hope.
my heart waits
with anxious ears
while my mind continues on
with real life.
i've always been good
at moving on
but today
i find myself forced to pause
to take in breath
as i consider
the possibility
that i never considered.

our love slain
and finding only me standing-
alive
but stuck on the memories
of a blue suitcase, bailey
and all the love
you poured over me

-a.

i want more.
than this.
than you're able to give.
there's something pathetic
the way my heart drools in fantasies
and despises real life.

i want more.
the earth is plastic-
this lie that fabricated our meeting-
i demand more of my skin
more than its able-
it hasn't cried out yet
but i don't expect it to.
it was always good at pretending-
at bending and rushing
and forgetting.

i've erased you
like a bad dream
and the sad river of my mind
doesn't mourn you
like it's supposed to.

i've given up
bargaining with cruel ironies-
they always pull the rug
and leave you wondering
when the maid last arrived to clean.

-a.

there's this emptiness
that you filled me with-
the deserted corridors
of your soul
and the smell of disinfectant-
nothing warm
nothing more than the minimum.
lack of funding
i would assume would be your excuse
but i know life better than that-
and you're gray.
desolate-
you've abandoned yourself
and instead, push yourself into others
in an attempt of love.
of passion
that you'll always drop
once it actually heats up.

-a.

there's a gurl
i always wished to be-
the happy one-
without scars
and sleeplessness.
it was all self-inflicted
but i didn't know how to stop.
reflections are all backwards,
that's why you thought
you knew me inside out.

and i just wanted to say
there's no shame in that-
we all see what we want
and often cut ourselves out
of what we need-

that sandy beach
was always my memory
and i could never want you enough
your stone offering
was never more heavy
and unsatisfying
as you spoke
of all you knew.

and none of it reached past
this skin-
my organs even
rejecting
the love you had.

-a.

artificial light-
the day
begs for forgiveness-
the tears have wandered off
and i wonder
how i'll ever leave you.
you cursed me with disease
that holds strong to my flesh-
inflicting this
within moments of our meeting
and have shown little remorse
or fallen regret.
in the shadows
i'll have to find.
there's no longer any room for lies
stories spun.
still with all that fear of truth.
i can't convince myself
to love you.

which words will you wish
when you know
there's never been love-
just the artificial company
of a lover
who wants to be forever
separated from you.

-a.

there's a stillness
of leaves-
the whispers of my disloyal mind
are quiet.
stolen by the moment
and the breath
of energy.
yours-
and i wonder if you know
your presence.
how it holds deeply
into my soul-
uncommitted
and never needing to be more.

hollow, this body-
i have nothing to offer you
but a bed never to be made
and a smile
that loves
beyond words.

-a.

you make me jumpy
after you leave.
like the caffeine of your presence
just finally sets in
before i realize what's happened.
there's an affect of energy
that exudes
from your eyes.

but i only feel trapped
when you walk away

as if my soul imagines
that the travelling of the world
wouldn't ever undiscover
the love
to be made with you.

-a.

i will never be
that book-
the fairy tale-
the witch-
that piece of life
i've always dreamed of.
and there's a sense of happiness
to follow the realization.

i've spent years
trying on those heels
and bending- pleasing-
creating a certain image
that always follows the frog.

turns out- it was me
always me
and i'm forced to retract
my statement-
no more lying.
stealing.
because that soul is myne
and that happy ending
is a waste of time.

-a.

i've forced myself to stop
and in this pausing
i've found myself lacking meaning
as i stand motionless.

there is no reality-
finances and crashing and conversation
nothing holding me to the edge.
here i can talk and breathe.

even if there's still no meaning
to any of it.

-a.

i've spent my life trying-
completing- moving from one project
to the next-
they were usually men
and that thought
doesn't stop me
from beginning again.

the whore has her weaknesses
she just doesn't broadcast them.

i wonder if she knows
who she is
without their flesh
covering her-
without their thoughts of defeat
and negativity.

this morning
i don't.
i don't have an answer for it- for anything
but i'm enjoying the way the coffee glides
and mixes in with these thoughts of poison.

-a.

I always wished for you.
For the saving-
For the rescue
And the ride into the brilliant.
I wasn’t dressed in rags
But I still thought with my heart
And dreamt with the clouds.

And never realized the damp
Rot of weeds
Was so apparent.

The princes all showed up-
One by one
On the quest to find queen.

I didn’t fit that skeleton-
Or did too well.
I got the following steps imprinted in my mind
And the memory of ease-
Pathetic and sickly.

Never look too closely.
The stories are always as they seem
And I never realized
That the earth
Could still tug like that-
Beyond tides and moons

The end is always plain-
Foolish
When already
The princess is born dead.

I had forgotten you.
Like you can forget the rain
During winter.
But you return.
It’s expected
And still the surprise of spring
Is the same-
Refreshing and cruel.
Intermittent spurts
Of longing for something more
Or the ability
To return to that winters’ darkness.
Wrap me in your memory-
Ease the pain.
Gently, pour the rain over me
And being the process
This time without the
Stars in my hair-
Without the blindness
Of your smile.

Letting be
The corpses
That are the only ones
To still remember
That rush of blood
And madness.

There is danger
In not recognizing
The line-
Whether or not
It’s life and blood
Or death and happiness-
That bell
Always rings too soon
For me
And I’m left grasping
At the memory of you-
Fading into the gray-
The fog of that morning.
The chill
That’s forever
Embedded into this flesh
That I carry around
Like pockets I’ve forgotten.
An end like that-
There’s no recovering.
Not when you
Continually
Throw your heart
Onto the floor.
Forgotten by your throat
And every piece of logic
That you once had known.

I’m lost
And you feed on it-
Find the energy
To regain
The control.
You thought you had me-
Thought that laughter
And promises of love
Would be enough
To devour me.

Oh, please. Go home
And do your research.
Spill your blood
And let me see
The lies
Hiding on the inside of your wrists
And so afraid to get wet.

Awareness is only as good
As the eyes that are seeing
And I’m beginning to think
I was born dead
Into a soul
Who loves humanity.
In the fact of flesh and lust.
These demons that hang on my neck
May be hidden
From some eyes
But my heart feels their regret
Like a hard rock-
Frozen in time
And more determined to create more.
The only positive nature
That has rooted in me
Is turning the sorrow
Into energy
But for how long does the run last?
The flowers die
And rot
And soon this body will follow.
There’s no hope in tomorrow
With a soul like that.

I begin to think
That you’re the more humane one.
Your process of elimantion
Is swift. Quick.
Shameful, your partners
May find themselves
But at least that moment’s over.
My serpent’s tail
Hasn’t found a way to be revealed
At least not in a one single motion
It’s more of a subconscious
Plan of attack
With success building every time.
My victims find themselves
Truly that- the consequence
To a series of made up emotions
Cleverly played out
Like Shakespeare’s pen-
Everyone dead at the end.

Fascinating
The lies told, spun of truth
There’s laughter
In the unknowing-
The sparring in dark.
Light doesn’t receive us all-
The innards
Too cloaked with practiced humanity.
We teach ourselves
To help others
And hate others
Coveting
Everything but ourselves
And we don’t see
How it changes slowly.
Beckoning
And overwhelming
The revolving of water
Is the only comfort-
The consistency without pattern
And yet we’re too weak
To just turn over and live
Left to die in dust-
The anger that we think
Is another’s
We can’t find blame in our own eyes.

We’re the self-images of tiny gods.
Little and less powerful with each waking breath.

There’s nothing more to say
About the pleasures of my flesh-
That story has been told
And rewritten multiple times.
Each ending is particularly
Unsatisfying
But I doubt that that’s the point.
I’ve been told it’s in the journey=
Those words often spoken
By heart’s who still beat-
Have the stale taste of blood.
I could never
Commit to that-
The recycling
And ever motion of forever.
But I’ve dreamt of it,
Desired the taste
And spilt childish blood and hours
Dreaming over the possibilities
Of the closure.

The closure of the animalistic self
And beginnings
Of what the society dictates
As acceptable.
Created from dust or evolved beyond monkeys.
The end result is still the same
The earth consumes us all
Regardless of the number of days
Spent in men.

It’s that pretty face kinda thing-
That draws them in.
Makes them conveniently forget.
Yet years later
It’s the first thing they bring up-
How it was i
That crushed them
And took their souls-
Their hearts-
Like I was some kind of demon
That had tricked them into a deal.
How their loss had consumed them
And forced them into a healing
That they couldn’t let go of.
Their possibilities now seemed hopeless
And a lil more gray
Than the life
They had once pictured.
A suffering
Of their own choice
That they’d never forgive themselves for
But continuously fall in love with.

I remember the beginning
The sign
And too much Jack-
The night
I can’t quite remember.
Your wife and lovers
And the routine
We seemed to have
Fallen into.

I’m sure we tried once
To go for coffee.
I’m not upset-
Conversation isn’t my strong point-
And I’d rather be
Pressed up against you
Than discussing the future
Or whether or not
Either one of us
Has siblings.
Your flesh is all that has ever
Appealed to me
And the vagueness of your eyes
Dark with lust
Is the only promise I want.

My flesh craves you-
I feel your distance
And know it’s just miles-
That in every other sense of it.
You’re residing in my body.
My mind lingers-
Reminds itself of your heartbeat
And my soul
Cries out
So desperate
For your touch.

This is not love
Or fairy tales.
There’s never been
That sense of awkwardness
Between us.

Just need and satisfaction-
I’ve never needed that hello kiss
And the empty promise of forever.
And I wonder
If you’d ever wanted more.

I’ve put you in a box.
Labelled you
And have sectioned off
A part of myself
Where I’ll let you live.
I’m not a fool
Especially when the past
Has already dictated it-

Long nights of dancing
And too much alcohol-
And too much awake
The next day-

No one calls until darkness
And my honesty
Being found quite undignified.

I enjoyed the rush
The emptiness in your touch
And the headache in the morning.
Knowing full well
We never connected
Even though one flesh
Just devoured the other.

Strange, it is now
Conversations and carefully placed words-
I can lean into you and find comfort.
And find myself
Smiling. Wanting classifications to be wrong,
But knowing that they’re right.
And there’s not a black line big enough
To erase the history
That will keep repeating us.

The cup is lifted-
There’s more to be done
More to be rehearsed.
I can’t make more excuses for you
And I can’t wait any longer-
This dance was exhausting enough
And now even more boring alone.
Who was I to think that I wanted more-
The flesh of another to keep beside me,
In bed and affairs
That I thought I ought to keep going.
There’s promise in the night
And rings of vows and circles of despair.
Waking up just once more
I find that the stick
Was something I threw with passion
And I never needed
A stone to keep me warm.

Who knows this next step.
The journey is not one planned
Even if it is over-thought.

The grasp of the rose’s thorns are great
But I’d rather a plant
That could feel the rain.
And I would not choose to watch
All that beauty rot.

Is there a mistake in my spelling
Or has your meaning already left
With your too big shoes
And no promise
Of another night?

Overcompensating
I may be
But the mirror
Tells many lies of me

And I’m not one to be caught
With something resembling a heart
No matter how highly valued that organ is.

I’m worried about
Losing my edge
Actually wanting
That fairy tale
In the end.
Life was first
And I’ve had it.
The prince and even princesses.
Sex. Drugs. Snow globe worlds.
Alcoholism and addictions-
A few botched suicides
And a miscalculated abortion.
I surgically removed myself
From the life
And now I’ve got nothing to prove
(mostly because I didn’t bother
Keeping any evidence of it all).

The suitcase is all packed
And there’s plenty of time
For me to keep looking back-
Regret is something
That I don’t find clinging to my skin,
Instead a healthy reminder of oxygen
Floating within my blood stream
While I search for another stone to throw
And soon forget.

There’s not much
That I haven’t said-
Haven’t resorted to
Tried to lie with.
You can be astonished
Or surprised.
I, personally, just wouldn’t waste the time.

But then,
I’ve had years
To get to know my skin-
As it ages
And refuses to break
At another’s whim.

It’s not that I’m honored in that-
More amused
At how appalling
Some of my scars can be
To those who fell in love
With the princesses
The fairies- magical.
Beautiful-
They all think me to be.
Mothers. Daughters.

They’d never pause
To check the sink for blood
Pills. Drugs. Candy.

Pieces of hearts and perhaps my liver
Found fragments stuffed in hat boxes
And left to be sorely forgotten-
Long ago trodden
And served beside cake.