stone butch blues

i want to stay with you forever,
but i can't -and don't- understand.
i want you to hold me so tight that you forget
everything that's wrong with your life
and everything that's wrong with mine,
and everything we said last night
and every time i cried.

i want to stumble home at three in the morning,
sobering up from a night on the town,
with chocolate-covered strawberries covering your mouth,
covering my thighs.
sharing the tastes of desperation, drunk cigarettes, and despair.

i want, and i want, and i don't know what i want,
and i tell myself, "NO,"
and i've gotten so fucking good at it.
of course something had to go sooner or later.

i'm just so, so sorry.

it wasn't that wall that was supposed to break.

cutting

the fact of the matter is simply that,
a fact,
that i am the one left behind this time, you
went ahead and replaced me
we used to be a synecdoche, the parts in the sum of the whole,
what i thought i couldn't live through losing.

i just need someone to believe in
because that person isn't me anymore.

you have met more interesting, honest people and
i still cower from your truths, avoidance
snip, snip, i'm losing touch with gravity and
i haven't found anything else to anchor to,
except stone god fantasies, calculus,
and sweating naked in front of eager eyes.

graphic

(203): I just saw the guy I have a crush on who hasn't talked to me in a week having lunch with a guy who once took off my shirt and then fingered me in his bed. Why.

she dreams about hands (like water, like time) moving,
start fast and finish slow. jazz. rock and roll.
she tries to copy those boys in her dreams,
in her fantasies,
sometimes it's better than the real thing.

she hears his voice through a muddle,
drunken laughter, spinning floors,
and it's a promise, she was right.
all this time later, she was right.

but the question now is if she's ready
to stop being wrong.

countess

for my birthday, i think i'll probably get
a bottle of Southern Comfort and some comforting cash.
I want to grow up this year and I will.

I want clicking heels, cigar smoke, bags of sugar-cocaine,
considering acid, cs_004_handin

% this won't show up in my program.

Blow us up and blow us away, dandelion seeds
dancing in the breeze,
trees bending.

I've been low lately and it's fine,
he hasn't called but that isn't a crime.
Just a wish. Just a design.
Me, I'm left with just a sigh and his back,
like way-back-when, like before.

% MORE HIDDEN MESSAGES, MORE

Let's just talk about it.

yellow eyes

kind of like if somebody was
gnawing at my mandible,
spitting out pieces of imperfection,
devouring the bits of energy, the wrong smiles,
healing the bite marks with salt swollen
into parasitic antibodies.

you don't even know this, you know,
and i'm jealous, and sad, and you
probably don't know that either and
who is punishing who?

"my body has betrayed my desires" but also
kept me from them.

i had a dream last night that i told you,
"sorry, but i can't stop" and we kissed,
slowly, painfully. today i will have to open my mouth.

i don't know why my heart seems to think
that you're the right destination. i should know better.
my mind will change with absence and i will move on again,
kiss others, not in dreams. live with no regrets.
never make amends.

i've had a lot of time
to think.

me, the pirate queen

when by the end of the day i feel
stretched out like my holey sweater,
couldn't hold together for the whole
six hours i've been dressed like this,
you want to text me "hey" and i think that
maybe my mistake has been
only underestimating your adoration,
and i don't know if i have more of a
conscience than she suspects or if i am just
not yet well-travelled enough
but i do not want to lead you on,
i only want to enjoy a few hours,
i overestimated your proposals and i
should have maybe
waited a week to spring it on you,
not talked, not thought, taken what i want
and then beg innocent later
when you realized you actually wanted more.

bao (or: treasure)

i sweeten my coffee and stare at the orange skyline,
read shiny magazines and judge myself,
pretend to be above the acidic paint on the stairwells and
appreciate.

remember, we married our fortunes together. and i
want to tell you everything. plan elusive and reduce
my confused state of rejection, i'll take my affection on the
high road and leave you alone.

i've been gambling with clocks, stealing stranger's socks,
i've evolved but i haven't changed and so wasn't i right from the beginning?
it breaks my heart a bit and i'll admit it to you -
you're the only person who could understand
when i reference that aged conversation and propose that sand
beat the rush by shrinking til the waves could do it no harm.

(tell me it's not true if it's not true, but don't lie to save me.)

but oh, but oh, where have you gone?