I am alone

the silence itches and bile rises from an empty stomach.

I can feel bad days coming but I can never stop them.

I want to rip my flesh and warm myself from the inside out

Blood streaming down my arms.

I want to hear his voice

telling me to breathe and offering to come over for an hour.

I can't stop thinking of everything that caused me pain

and sleep will be filled with nightmares.

So I'll lie awake and fuck my demons.

It's hard to describe

the feeling of you.

How you feel above me

gripping my waist.

How you feel beside me

listening to my woes.

How you feel around me

with a smile on your face.

It's better than weightlessness 

and scarier than the vastness of space.

Because my love for you

never ends. 

Three stories

1. Socked feet balanced between concrete and railing

2. False cries of despair real cries of surprise

3. The urge to jump

Far away from friend who's family

Laughter at three stories 

I never thought that something as easy as shopping would make me want to slip into the comforting embrace of pain. Walking through an art store with country music quietly molesting my subconscious the things I put behind, the things I put away, sneak up on isle four. Rows and rows of my shiny toothed demons smiling in their plastic caps. Boxes of my old friend line the shelves. I pick up the x-acto on my list and grab the utility knife while I'm at it. Two things I would normally keep hidden in a hollow candle holder my ex boyfriend's grandfather made by hand and gifted me for christmas are now required purchases as I "embark on the next stage in my life".  

In a house full of pain and sprinkled with pleasure

In the back where my parents sleep in separate beds

In the closet full of my dad's familiar shirts

On the shelf with a coin jar I'v taken hundreds of quarters out of

In the safe full of personal records I read through to feel shitty

In a lock box without a combination

Lies a gun.

Waiting for my weakest moment.

Sometimes life is like running across a balance beam.

I sloppily force one foot in front of the other

hoping that I'm moving fast enough not to fall.

The problem with running across a balance beam 

isn't that I look like a penguin trying to fly.

The problem is that my chances of falling

have just increased.  

I'm going to hit the ground harder

and with much less grace.

Just because I was too afraid to slow down. 

Silence does not mean consent.

My mouth was sewn.

Each day in your bed a stitch through my lips.

Each touch pushing the needle through. 

I didn't know how to speak.

Time did not loosen the thread.

I sat in my car hands between my thighs.

Your hands between my thighs.

Gentle forcing. Tender pain.

You ask me and tell me in one breath.

I hold my breath. I close my eyes.

The pink sun reflects on the dark pond. 

I hold the fishing pole between my thighs and lean against you. 

Your warmth spreads through me as I slip into the pond.

Fish we couldn't catch swim past as I sink to the bottom.

I surface two hours ago sitting in the passenger seat screaming lyrics.

Fields of amber you call gold surround us.

Two hours to a historic district with the most beautiful house I've seen. 

We walk though the door and down the hall and through our lives.

I place my hand on time and whisper in your ear.

I'll make a home hear and you'll make a home in my chest. 

Guys don't like a girl with scars.

I can't fall and scrape my wrist in twelve straight lines.

I'm completely exposed, naked.

He kisses down my thigh and I jerk back.

No one sees your inner thighs

unless you're having sex.

He pulls away and all I see is disappointment. 

I love the way it feels in my hand.

My palms are sweaty but the metal is cool.

A thin silver tube hollow and light.

The blade glints is the sun.

I press it gently against my wrist 

and then I pull.

It's not the pain that makes things easier, its the scar.

Two little dark lines on my wrist that on one has noticed.

I run my fingers across them when I need to be reminded.

They burn when I wash my hands and I feel a slight panic 

when my friend pulls at my sleeve.

But its worth it because I did it.

Not him but me.