In Spirit

In spirit, she wasn’t really there. I guess there wasn’t any part of her at all that really was. A plum, a peach, and a Caribbean island filled with extravaganza, and really, I mean really, is that not enough for anyone? You would be surprised. Universally, there is .a period of growth. A bleeding red menstrual of growth ripe with worry for Her children’s children caught on white linen sheets. An extravaganza. An explosion of blood like shooting out the back of a body, the backs of bodies on video on film online — hard to find but not that hard if her (boyfriend) could do it.

Deep

Life vests floating on top of the water tell her no, stop, beautiful fish don’t swim so far below. And like that, they carried things. A bubbling in their stomachs. An adversity. And can we blame them? Can we blame ourselves for turning away from things we actually care about? Dangerous men lie to themselves. Dangerous women are too honest. While this is not political, there is no way that it’s not. There is no way that my words can be like you, sitting by the fire, embracing the heat. Healing from blistering wounds but still, you sit by the fire

I’m Losing Myself

I write in a fury. I don’t think. My nail, the one on my ring finger, broke when I backhanded the drywall and I broke a glass too and I don’t want to think about alcohol like the way it’s been because my father made it. I want it to be fun but even she drinks too much when I thought she did it for fun. Even she said some things that tell me she’s going to rehab before she gets too old to not care about it. Well, hell. I think I can do it. I think I can drink. My little body is too old and I don’t want to that much anyway.

Leopard Print Cheetah Healer

Leopard print cheetah healer like a bleeder. Wheeler. Heavy high roller. He hasn’t gone over the paperwork and god I’m nauseous. He hasn’t told me about the ways of westward world but I live by the ocean. I’ve always been. Even as an ovum by the ocean and closer to the equator then. And scared. But I am not afraid of being hit. I wouldn’t ever let that happen, but I’m scared of it happening to her because she wouldn’t tell. I’d kill him. I’d end him. She knows that. I’m showing out. Fuck the way things were. Fuck the people rolling their eyes. They don’t know how much it means; they’ve never been so tied down by love, by their loyalty. Things you should be proud of turned against you by someone who was supposed to love you. There is a reason for going too far and it’s repression before horror. So if you’re the oppressor, you can blame yourself. You can feel bad. It’s the first step. To what, I don’t know. I never lived like you. I hope the first step to falling off a cliff but if it’s to recovery, I’ll take that too.

Poetry and writings // PDX

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