what was left behind

my dearest,

we finally ran out of bullets

we have no ammunition to fire our weapons

there is nowhere left to run

nowhere left to hide

i finally ran out of bullets.

I have no fight left in me, my love.

my heart, what a champ, I’m I right?

despite the countless beatings it has taken, it keeps me alive,

it keeps turning the wheel, spinning the thread

my heart, what a champ, I’m I right?

despite the dozens of secrets weighing it down,

all those secrets I swallowed and stashed deep down its chambers.

With this heavy heart of mine, I surrender.

It ends here, because I finally see you without your mask, and sweetheart,

you will continue to take and take and take and take from me, until you exhaust my

resources, until there is nothing left to give.

You are not to blame for the sorrow I let consume me and keep me up night after night.

You are not the one responsible for the way I abuse my body, the way I starve myself

because I hate the way I look and feel.

No one is to blame, not you, not my father, not society, not those who have wronged.

I cannot blame the men who left perfect silhouettes of their hands and fingers imprinted

with purple ink on my cheekbones, my arms, my neck, and the soft arch of my back.

Even those whose mark never faded from purple to green and yellow hues,

those men are not to blame.

Nor the men who have raped me, or the men who have loved me.

Or the men who made me cum, the men who have made me laugh.

The men who made me cry.

You, my love, are not blame, because in the end, it was I who allowed,

and even welcomed your abuse.

Because abuse is all I’ve ever known. Because I have let abuse define me.

But today, I have decided to stop letting my heart taking the beatings,

I will no longer hide in the comfort of familiar

feelings.

Those people, those men, they are all innocent.

You are innocent.

No more lies, just goodbye, and I forgive you.

 

superglue

With clenched teeth, I must admit
You were never mine to love anyway,
I took your heart and super glued the cracks back together
I did my best to stop the bleeding, to patch up the holes, to mend the arteries
I carried your sorrow to help you sleep
Maybe it was the holes in my arms
Maybe it was my self destructive tendencies starting to boil over into our lives
Into the bed we share, staining our sheets, making them sticky with guilt and secrets
Maybe none of this is true
Maybe none of this is real
Perhaps I made it all up and you were never really here with me, anyway

hello goodbye hello

I love you but I love me more

love to love to say goodbye

I love I love the sunlight on my face

with a face like yours

how do you expect me to forget

Tuesday July 9th, 2019 4:13am (I’m out of smokes and the 7-11 doesn’t open for another 2 hours)

twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six

ready or not here I come, never on time

sorry can’t help it bro

I always arrive

wasted

too many precious hours with my face screaming into a pillow

simply because all I’ve ever wanted was to be loved by someone

to be loved by someone the way I love my someones

the way I love the beautiful boys who don’t read poetry

At least I’ll never be boring

At least I’ll always be

good enough for stab wounds

good enough for fallen soldiers

good enough Albuquerque tap water

good enough I guess,

but fuck man, there is

not enough loose change at the bottom of my purse

to make up for all your radio silence

or my self inflicted acts of violence

not enough loose change at the bottom of my purse

for the both us

no one’s next and you’re last

 

 

 

 

 

 

(smiles are perfectly constructed, never born) They don’t make ’em like they used to.

I can always pretend, I can always pretend.

Watch me. I’ll be the one in the blue dress, I’ll be the girl with the loudest laugh and the starry eyes, the life of the party.

Watch me smile bright while I recite a line from the script I wrote last night.

Watch my lips,  my voices knows how to navigate through the rooms of a house party.

“I’ve been great. I’m doing great. Not much has changed I’m still the same you know? Honestly, I’m doing great, can’t complain. How’s life been treating you dear friend?”

Spoken thoughts, broken hearts, my words, the ones I string together instead of counting sheep, the leftover crumbs, the pieces no one wants. They belong to me, I belong to them.

I don’t kiss and tell no more.

I don’t kiss and say goodbye no more.

Today I can’t look in the mirror. I’m having one of those days.

Throwing up tactics.

Throwing up toast.

I hate myself today.

But I love you always.

What a day, what a life, what a time to be alive, I’m I right?

 

 

 

with a smile like yours

you are not mine and you will never be

meant to be

the flames of the fire pit kiss my arms and awake my senses

I find comfort in knowing that we are born alone and we will die alone

any day now

I find comfort in knowing we are all alone,  together

with a heart like yours how do you expect me to forget you

with kisses like yours

the sun comes around here

the sun comes around here

it lives here in my living room

 

your eyes are a lovely shade of blue

cut out the bullshit

break out the birthday suits

i took a taxi to your place at 1am last night

you’re still the best sex i’ve ever had

our love a love so tragic

i don’t need no sugar coating

the truth taste bitter on the tip of your tongue

tell it how it is

nothing can break me anymore

your syringe turns my blood black

you kiss the holes in my arms

and tell me i’m beautiful

best you’ve ever had

 

 

 

august 7th 2018

Past due goodbyes. I forgive you.
Now clean out the ink turning my blood black.
I drink up their acid. Bottoms up. I do it to stay humble.
Yes, I smoke lots and lots of cigarettes even though they will kill me one day.

When I was a child, I used to be afraid of dying. But, now that I think of it, I was terrified of the unknown.
This past spring, I filled my syringe with poison because I was afraid of living.
I wrote my father a letter, said goodbye to my home, the desert. Schorching, moody, with it’s cool summer nights.
God gave us tears cause living ain’t free. We pay up, with our suffering.
I pay up, with my suffering
And I wouldn’t change a thing.
There’s so much beauty in dirt.

august 26th, 2018

Spilled. Water damage. All apologies. Watering holes. Naked bodies intertwined, your bed our canvas. Heart like desert rose. Singing heart little bluebird. I hug your shoulders and smell your neck. . We found each other again. We found little broken pieces of clay. We recycled them, made new ones. You are the first person I’ve met who eats the same foods I do. Yesterday you told me that I wasn’t just your lover, I was your friend. You kissed me, wiped my tears, helped me to bed, took off my boots and socks. Tucked in, tuckered out, tomorrow, today, my tenderness, is yours too.

This type of sadness is new to me. I want to cry for hours but my body or my mind or both won’t allow it. It’s like I’ve shut off a part of myself because it is too painful to even think about or begin to process the past 9 months. I’m not binging on drugs and alcohol to numb the heartache. I have nothing left to give.

One of my biggest regrets is not listening to you sooner. You told me over and over that you didn’t know if you loved me. And you didn’t. You never did. And you never will.