monster"i feel like a monster" -
whispered secrets to a plastic Jesus;
pray for swift, holy justice.
no - Fate smiles. too easy.
swallow it down, let it
burn deep inside,
i tasted the fever on your lips
and it was metallic
burning quicksilver in your veins,
dripping off your tongue.
waited for it to consume you
like the monster
that it is.
"we're all monsters inside" -
broken revelations in the darkness;
the daylight was too bright
to see our sins by.
i drew the fire out with each kiss
and blew away the smoke:
guilt is like a glass hammer
beating against stone.
other people's heartbreakfifteen year old father,
and he can't uncrumple the dollar bills for the automatic teller machine
where the bamboo walls
girls veiled in smoke,
thin-strap tank tops
the click and hiss of a soda can
she miscarries in the basement on a hot summer night,
the dregs of her uncle's offspring draining from her in hemorrhagic spurts,
her fingers bruising on the unsheeted mattress
mom and pop wake to a phone call from the county coroner
he is blue from the lake water and green from the nausea
and grandma knits afghans, over
like a man who drowns himself loves the seathe teeth of choice barely rubbed at you through your clothes,
while i was scratched and scratched and scratched deciding
and the scars grew roots in my brain, thick and keloid white,
patterns i can't erase
i loved you like a murderer, like a hurricane
i loved you like a man who drowns himself loves the sea
i loved you like the two-ton anvil of responsibility i thought you'd handed to me too young
as rough your skin,
i worried just as much for you as for all the little sheep i left behind.
a letter from a drunkI've not been so serene since the time you last gobbled up all my broken and untied ends like strawberry cheesecake that night at your aunts.
(I thought you loved me then, with your turbulent eyes whipping around my body until the wake of sun against the congregation of the stars. but truth is you were just a hungry boy and I was a girl who had her sides dipped in appetizer.)
it was the fifth night of summer when I met him. he looked a bit like you, with opaque, swollen eyes that swam around some point of singularity that was his soul. he had black smudges near the bends of his nose, but I could have licked the dirt right off of him, made him look more proper a man, if his gaze had not caught me in some tight, inescapable orbit amidst the partygoers.
I had took lissy's chair. she said to me, 'hey, I'm going to get another beer, watch my seat.' so I sloshed on over with a big grin and did as she said. I asked her to get me another one, too, but she took one look at me and the one I had
smothered.you look at people so differently when you learn of how their heart finally stopped beating.
the picture in the hallway looks darker than it used to, even in the full afternoon sunlight.
and the family photo from last christmas makes something in your chest tighter. locks you
up almost like your insides are compartmentalised and you just locked something up have
no intention of ever opening it again.
i saw a picture of you after lunch today and i don't think i've ever looked at you how i did in
that moment. there was something in the furthest blackest part of your eyes that scared me.
frightened and shivered me right to the core and suddenly it clicked. it made some semblance of
sense, well, more than it ever had before at least. that look i'd seen as a 12yr old girl wasn't
nervousness or shyness it was a monster, it was the extreme of all the emotions, reaching the top
of their power and mixing,blending into something that is thick and black and inescapable.
i thought o
and yeahwe broke ourselves on the edge of dawn,
bottles and bottles and a small smoking pile of cigarette ash
you said sleep is for the weak
you said a lot of things are for the weak.
the girl in the boy's underwear told you were being selfish
and she told you to get a grip
maybe it was a bit mean,
but i think she had a point
questioning.there was this idea that everything was just inside her head
just sitting inside her skull and making the rest of her body
tremble and quake over nothing but thoughts
and thoughts aren't solid
how can something that isn't even real
affect the limbs and the heart
and everything that makes us up
so greatly when it doesn't even have any mass?
pressure.almost everyday i wonder if you're
but i have no fucking way of knowing.
and my god, its impossible to
hate a ghost.