high maintenance

uh oh.
is that me?
a high maintenance girl?

check the list...
one through ten
I think I fit eleven

so now I see
simple as it is
now I understand
but how can I clean up
my tangled mind
and stand strong again.

or did I ever.
is that how I got where I am?

push the rubble
up and off
brush the dust away
to try and see myself
the way I am
but more importantly
how I want to be

but I need to get it straight
for whom do I do this --
them or me?

i notice things

i notice things
like
gum under the chair
hair in the food
flies on the window
worms in the rice

i can't forget them
even after their gone
their shadows spook me
make me squirm

i notice things
that aren't even there
like someone's attraction
someone's distraction

then i make bad decisions
about my relationship
to that person

and then i start to notice
even more

i start to notice
that i'm not the only one
they want to talk to

i start to notice
i'm not the only one
they want to see

i even notice
they may not even
want to be near me...

that's when i implode
the little fleshy shell
caves in upon itself

the darkness of the bugs
and the hairs in the drain
come crawling up like
daddy long legs
and centipedes

my nice hot bath
becomes a stewing pot...

i need some more thyme

i'm your man

who cares
a bunch of cells
mechanical

pretending to like each other
hating
every day
they spend
making up this body

i'm trapped
a hostage
of their
attraction

their symbiotic
relationship

pathetic
really

i don't see why
they have to
get me involved

oh shit
now leonard cohen
just came on the stereo
i'm your man

what is that supposed to mean?

just to show me
how much of a cretin
i really am

but now he's broke
his agent
of all people

god, is there any
sanctuary?
is anyone safe
i mean...
if leonard cohen
isn't safe
who is?

wry is rye
fried.

flat. line.

sentient.
being.

asphalt.
roadway.

television.
station.

wealthy.
politician.

adobe.
abode.

abuse

charming smile
comfort ease
compassion display
snag your prey
with bits
of wit
and merit
then systematically
tear her
limb from

monster

.










the ugly truth
stood, staring, glaring
at my cowering fetus
afraid to lose
flawed, painful love

i thought, at first
i was blessed
to see what no one else could
a kitten
there, inside the monster

the monster's skin
spoils if it's touched
his mind is obsessive
he convulses with compulsion

and the monster
will consume me
if i persist in trying
to come too close

the monster
wants my heart
as an entrée
but it is still too sweet
he needs to harden it first
to make it spoil

when he finally gets
that ripened fruit
beaten to a pulp

my bound and gagged
carcass
stripped
and gutted

he will tear it from my rib cage
partaking with such delight

he will swim in my entrails
and skate upon my blood
lapping it all up
consuming me
satisfying his ecstatic perverse desires
.

survival mode

.
we both survive
but I find ways
to adapt.
.

there's damage

.
did it start with a bruise
at some nascent stage?
perhaps an incision
a fever

or a father
handing down
the fine art
of abuse

wounded womb
uncalibrated doom

safety inside a pustule
swimming in canker and ooze

sweetness in poison
love in hate
there's damage
there's damage
there's damage
.

only

.


i called out
but nothing moved

no sound
just silence screaming
as if i had become
ice

my tears were
flashes of light
fire flies
dripping green
from my miserable eyes

there some latent fungus
sprung to life
from the dampness
of my sorrow

still mostly frozen
i can't feel
all the stabs
of frigid indifference

i only find
an appropriate pose
and let the frost
encase me

i watch
like an icicle
patiently dripping
firmly affixed
on a frozen edge



.