May 30, 2010

you won't go near this with a 10 foot pole.

said he wanted me.
wanted me to be his girl.
wanted to be with me.
wants to know what i'm doing tomorrow.

he has no idea what stirs inside of me.
that there is a beast awaiting it's next meal.
that i have no control over how my heart feels.

again, he calls.
and leaves no message.

May 29, 2010

Vagina Dentata

I've never looked.
Never seen it.
That space below.
Not studied.
Not made friends.

It's appreciated by some.
Yearned for by others.

A myth.
A legend.
A small tale.
Carried with me like a storybook.

My trap.
My Pandora's Tool Box.
My junk yard.

A promise.
A mistake.
A truth.

Poet Mother
Warm Wet
Tender Pink
Soft Still
Tight like brothers
Silent Weary
Tough Tantalizing
Painter Artist
Drawing out your stars.


grandma's poppies are in full bloom
and i am none the more rich today
as i was 24 years ago

i have led expensive lives
but none have left me so empty as this one

he won't even let me feel his heart beat

smiley faces make me feel better

on the way to his house, i pass a street
bearing your name

we have drunken, unapologetic, sloppy sex

i crave cigarettes in the morning, piss red

and wish those black eyes had been for me
I stared at the marks on his face. The dents, the divots, the scars.

I begged the moon and the sun.

Make me permanent.
Make me a staple.

Cut the last two lines.

We do the things we have to...right, Momma?

We spread ourselves thin, we come up short.
For all along, we are on a secret mission.
To find love, and sustain it once it's ours.

We do the things we have to for posterity.
For strength.

We will give of ourselves until nothing is recognizable.

For Daddy

There was never a better time to love him, as I held his head beneath the water.

He never said he was sorry...for all the wrongs he'd made sure to do exactly right.

He stopped stirring anything in me when he forgot that I am the wind.

He is a man now.
Part of the ocean.
The father I always wanted.
Part of the sea.

Just like I'd always need.

May 4, 2010

late night ramble.

he saw those tears.
and i warned that they were not his to keep.

i once stood, impressed. proud.
for it seemed, i had been reformed.

but, now i lay here, sheepish.
because those tears were his, all along.

and i've been reformed.
just not the way i should have been.