Mine

Smudging blood on my papers,

putting lavender in my books.

I always use such extremes when claiming things.

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Bride

I ravaged racks of wedding dresses.

Looking for one to replace my mother’s.

I wore hers out in the rain

And ruined it with mud.

I snapped the spaghetti straps

And tore the hemline with my father’s yellow galoshes.

Running through different realms,

I was a queen and there was a king.

I was an empress and there, an emperor.

I ruled with dead leaves,

Rusty bars, and my

Torn dress.

Gliding side to side on my blue swing,

I was riding a dragon.

In the sky over quilted patches of Earth.

I tore the templates from the ground and mended the dress myself.

I rode into the clouds

And married the endless void.

10 years old —

Knew I’d be a runaway bride.

Fishnets

I wish my jeans were smaller

that I would speak less about things I don’t know about.

Even with my size

I feel I carry such heavyweight;

In my words

or my expressions.

I walk with my head down

and I have a nice curve down my spine.

I’m always carrying a backpack

and my shoes are too tight.

I crash into strangers

because I think I take up too much space.

Blue vs. Orange

I went to an estate sale.

A woman was selling a baby blue guitar.

“It’s yours — I’m moving to Aruba.”

And off I went with baby blue in hand.

As Blue as an Aries,

was the name of the band.

There was a boy in navy blue swim trunks playing in a South Jersey blue hole.

I blushed at the site of him — pink.

I put down my guitar and started to paint my hair shades of blue.

Streaky and soft,

like watercolor ink.

I found a man in orange,

offering me warm bearded kisses.

I didn’t want them but I was cold.

“This could be a good move for me,” I thought.

I went to the bathroom to wash the paint out,

but the whole room was blue.

Enough

I missed the night.IMG_3698

I smoked passion flower,

left a water bottle open in my bag,

slept with lipstick and glitter

for 12 hours and it’s still not enough.

You were in my dream–

at least a part of you was.

My childhood fish friend decided to move in with me.

It’s always dark now,

in every dream,

Blue, Black, Grey silvers of light

form the non-existing moon bounce off of puddles and trees.

I want to hide.

I want to be seen.

I don’t know which one I want more.

I am surrounded by vomit,

hay,

and sleepiness,

and disappointment.

When did everything I write become so dark?

27


Thick mud 

Dried raspberries 

Hangovers 

Blood 

And rotting gums 

Water weight 

Crossed eyes

Lazy eyesssss

Green teeth

Peacock hair 

The chariot 

The chariot

The chariot 

Lions and witches 

Melon 

Lapis 

Energy balls 

Violence 

Violence

Violence 

Lessons learned from not writing shit down 

Lessons learned from lightning