uterus --

despite
what grey
may say

you are
an asshole.

both our beds lie empty and wrinkled
bodies so far from sleep, from recline

i want to swim in the blue ocean of threads
of you
i want to sink into the red comforter
of me

entwine and release
aliens and god and the purpose of blood cells
wondering if we can see through each other's eyes

you make me feel like
a radiohead song
the intense, the passion, the sorrow, the electric,
the smooth, the emotion, the perfection

to trace the outline of your lips
and tell you this
and for it to matter
to anyone besides just me

i whisper things to you
when you're not around

parking in the driveway
of a convenience store

soft words, barely breathed
"i miss you. do you know i miss you?"

i send you psychic messages
across green spring lawns

blades soft under painted toes
black kitten amongst daffodils

i hear myself say
"when are you coming home?"

how easily i fall to tears
it infuriates me and instead of
showcasing swollen red eyes
and dramatically choking on muffled cries
I hide, I hide, I hide

I hide, I hide, I hide

It's deep inside
where my secrets lie
the faltered alibis
the cripple's wine

it's deep inside, it's deep inside, it's deep inside

this scarred up hide
stained scarlet suicide

it's where I hide
it's where I hide
it's where I hide

i am in hiding
i listen to fishtanks
and whooshing suburban traffic
the scrap of pant buttons
against the dryer walls

i am done with brooklyn
i am done with a phase
i am done with the best of days
i am focused ahead

i am writing new books
if only in my head

my ego grew large and posthumous
danced, trotted, and slutted
her way around
unannounced and rarely invited

i don't want to be important anymore
not even sure i want to be heard
not sure if i want to be the pretty girl
or the one holding awards

i think what i want is what i've found
in these fishtanks and kenmore whirls
i think it's beneath the stars
the relief of "Exit 40" in the headlights
knowing that I'm finally home







and then the secret part

it's in the you
the comfort, the closeness
the "awwwww almost"
the what could be, what won't be
it is in the daffodils
blossoming in my yard
it is in the porch steps cigarette

it is, it is, it is

Borderline

My nerves lie outside of my skin
They wince and gasp,
wrapped around tattoos and old scars.

Too sensitive to function
without medication and intensive care
perhaps, perhaps
perhaps, perhaps

A breeze can shake to the floor
this precious house of cards
that all of my life
I have built but never glued

A breathe, a giggle, a well-intentioned caress
and I'm a mess, I'm a mess
all over again

Foundation I have found
it lies at the bottom
at the heart
where I never thought to look
but of course,
being the foundation,
has always been

These nerves shoot pain, overestimate
the pressure of a kiss, of an embrace
love can crush, casual a casuality

I ain't crazy no more
I ain't crazy no more, darling
but there's still too much of me
I brim with mire and angst
I brim, I brim, I burst and ooze

I spill out of jeans
My heart an overbubbling pot
My arms extend too far,
wrenched out of sockets
fingers splayed,
reaching and grasping
at empty air
Eyes locked, their gaze
dry and desperate
on the closed door
three feet above the floor.

The muses have returned
they recline around my living room
snorting Adderall
notepaper in shreds and ink spilled
on my brand new carpet

Perhaps it's the price you pay for genius
he says as we drive through town
he's too drunk to be behind the wheel
and I'm too drunk to care

Reckless and free
I think - a price for genius, perhaps
it is to be paid
but a cost for medicoricity and namelessness
and me, pennies too few

Everyday when I write, when I can, when i am able
when whispers echo in my brain
and fingers, possessed, dance upon plastic keys
I think of Sylvia, of Papa, of all those
who died at their own hands
unable to take their own brillance
all those who died at their own hands
who also wore their nerves
on the outside of their skin

Celexa, you sound like a goddess
you tuck me in bed at night
in cat-clawed crimson sheets
you kiss my forehead
promise to keep crazy away
for one more day

You turn off the light
and left in the dark
I ponder borderlines
I chew on compromises
and sacrifices

To burn out
or to fade away

To burn out
or to fade away

3/7/2010

There are many places
that I do not fit

due to expanse of hips
or a lack
of social grace.

There are many invitations
that I turn down

because of fear
that I'll be Carrie'd
and drenched in pigs blood.

It's a lonely way to live
but perhaps also wise.