Ye said

baby I'm free

like a homeless person

felt that

right in

my

no less

soul

less

self

I'm a 37

year-

old

baby

took away my

security

blanket

in

sobriety

found out

my

soul

sought

object

permanance

was too busy

looking

for the next

high

an ego

drive

by

no chill just

all cry

a little something to

calm my nerves

to polish pearls

shucks.

cheers

to the fat

men

getting

good

off

addiction

in for a penny

chow down

on the pound

what's flesh anyway

but a thrift store

find

for the wine

and dimed

feel so dumb

these days

cause I've got no

bandwidth

I got no man

with

no

sandwich

to stuff

my

insecurities

ditched the prozac

calmed the noise

apps

drew a line down

new girl in

old

town

live less

stag-

nant

now

leaning in

somehow

I came clean

to my teenage

daydream

girl

I still mourn my

potential.

I'm too dehydrated

to be

this

thirsty

so I let

my

God

serve

me

and

yes

sobriety

saved me

each drink

a noose

you could

hang me

co-dependence

my

nursery

you know sometimes it's

hard to be

freeing myself

from

me

I filled

a

cart

with all the things

I want to buy you

for your birthday

knowing I’ll never

click

purchase

or call you

at

9:37

to honor your mother’s memory

again

this year

I’ll light a candle

for your

number

blocked

so I don’t have to

hear

your

voice

or know

how

your

child

bride

bids

our

child

to oblige

this

happy

birthday

song

my therapist

says

I’m window shopping

for the fantasy

where I can

almost

have

it

all

where I somehow keep my

head

in the matter

while I watch you

have your

cake

and eat it

too

If I had a dick

I would have made a

great

father

The last you have of me

is pig tailed dna

and that last placenta pill

I kept in y(our) freezer

so sentimental

I never popped it

a red balloon

now I

float

here

alone

when she makes you get rid of it

what metaphorical

life

blood

bleeds out

basking

in the

undead

never said

miscarriage

on the

mattress

you've fucked

the last

ten

on

and happy

day

to the men

I made

fathers

to the bloody mess

we

made

and those

beautiful

babies

I cannot find my father's

phone number

to call

and say

thank you for teaching me how to

dream

I am so sorry

I never learned

how

sans

somnambulance

They say

time

heals

all

wounds

like the

slow

burn

of attraction

four months

later

and I

hate you

more.

I never finish

what I

start

except

perhaps

life

I live here

in this

twin

bed

between

night

sweats

and dirty

day

depression

dreams

and I wonder

if I never move

could I charge

1.99

to see

the

wasted

woman

before pictures

filtered

obviously

extra

stick of gum

maybe

dynamite

for the

selfie

so I stick to

masturbation

raises my

heart

rate

and

call it my

cardio

myopathy

cause I used to be a

sweet

girl

with

runners legs

now I have to beg

my weak ankles

to

piss

you

off

He said

even under the covers

you take

shape

as if my body

aligns

to his eye sight

state of mind

darling I’ve been so blind

to who

I

am.

He said

who would ever share you

as if my

sex

is not

a

spectator

sport

convinced I’ll take my ex

back

darling

flash

backs

never

focused

on the future.

He said

You are someone to me

answering a question I never knew how to ask

not just

some

body

now I’m

somebody

and even if his touch sizzles

and slides

from my skin

into that safe place

of solitude

I’ll never forget

the man

whose stare

gave me

courage.

He said

my shoes

were

ugly

and I felt like

he

alone

could see

the woman

I could

become

not afraid of my

fat

ass

not afraid of my

insecure

sass

I can’t fathom

how you

see

me.

He said

I was his bane

you know that

seething

pain

that weakness

we don’t want to

fall for

and I know the drill

I’m an immediate

thrill

but I know you saw so

far so-

Going into rehab and I’ll write you letters

so bummed I can’t seal

your

stamps

with a tongue

it’s all so sticky

past

loves

so icky

yet

not just a part of

my

ladder

rung.

You spell out words

you give me verbs

fuck

there’s no one like you

and I won’t say your name

though I know I’m your

bane

and dear you,

I

fucking

love

you.

and I know

that’s

so trite

but isn’t

love

insight

to the way

we want to

be seen?

and if I could paint

my immaculate

portrait

well

honey

I would

be

your

queen.

Google:

How easy is it

to drown

yourself

asking for a

friend

immediate link to all the hotlines

where incredibly compassionate strangers

read you

your

rites

habeas

corpus

emphasis on the

corpse.

A stranger named Richard writes:

As easy and pleasant as skinning yourself.

It just takes determination.

Dick move?

Next post:

Inhale

nitrogen

it will

DISPLACE

oxygen

it takes two

atoms

maybe

eve’s

never three

ways

so keep it simple,

stupid.

A kiss goodbye

is just your wounds saying

even with dirty faces,

I’ll still lick you

*clean

*I am seeking professional help

*I really dig this poem