Baby Girl
Baby girl
You can barely move
Untouched
Untainted
You have nothing to prove
Little girl
Shoulders high with your heart
Giggling days
Away
Your own piece of art
Growing girl
You’re exposed
Pitted from
Memories
Of being taken and disposed
Big girl
Body a crime scene
Taped up
Filed away
Raped of what could have been
Poor girl
You can barely move
Fragments of yourself
You’re nothing
Left
To
Prove
I Met a Man Today
I met a man today.
He smiled at me and asked for my hand.
Tentative,
I offered it to him
As he danced me around into a decrepit pit
And left me there.
I met a man today.
He told me he would help me out of the pit,
I eagerly offered him my hand.
He declined, asking for my thoughts instead.
So I walked him through the corners of my mind
As he stopped frequently to replace the flowers I had planted throughout
With weeds
And left me there.
I met a man today.
He told me he would help me out of the pit,
But I asked him to help me get my mind back instead.
He agreed,
But demanded my heart first.
So I gave it to him.
As he cursed its lifeblood with corruption
And left me there.
I met a man today.
He said he could help me out of the pit,
As he slithered down
And lay next to me.
I asked him what he wanted and he said,
“Your body”.
I refused.
But he took it anyways.
Soiling my naïveté
And left me there.
I met a man today.
He said he could help me out of the pit,
But them he gazed down at my
Idle eyes,
Stained heart,
And debased body
Realizing I had no more innocence to offer
And left me there.
Isolation
I stand behind thick glass that separates me from the rest of the world
As I watch everyone dance, sing, and love
In the world beyond this glass.
On my side of the barrier I am alone.
I want to be with them.
I wave and talk to them
But they do not see me.
I smash my fists against the glass until my knuckles are a bloody pulp.
I continue to do this every day
But the glass gets thicker and they all become blurrier.
I see them together
Loving one another
And I beg them to come and love me too.
But they stay so far away from me and I cannot get to them.
I curl into a defeated fetal position
As they all turn and face me.
“Sweet baby,”
They say
“How do you expect us to love you when you don’t even love yourself?”
Efforts
I realized who I was
Would never be enough,
But that maybe
What I did could be.
So I presented you with the rarest flowers
And commanded the earth to sprout trees.
I nurtured the ground and instructed it to birth mountains.
But you shook your head
And demanded an ocean.
I looked to your sky,
Which I noticed was brooding and black.
So I adorned it with the moon
And sprinkled your horizon with stars,
So you would no longer feel isolated.
But you turned to me
And demanded the sun.
I moved on to the air.
I told it to whisper nostalgic chills,
Wishing that you cared to remember
I made it accumulate tears
In hopes that you would feel it cry.
I ordered those tears to frost
Into an overlay of snow,
So you’d know of new beginnings.
But you spit on my efforts
And demanded a warm summer day.
You wanted what I could not give you,
And you quickly disposed
Of all that I could.
Flowers
I want to be where the flowers grow;
To be the dirt I was created with.
I want to inhale the soil I was taken from
Until I am suffocating in the ground.
I want the trees’ limbs to swaddle me,
Coiling around my neck like a noose.
I want to lie in rest beneath the earth;
For the plants to root themselves under my skin, intertwining with my veins.
I want the insects to infest my rib cage,
Nesting together around my still heart.
I want to be the home for the flowers,
Because I am tired of being the home to myself.
I want to be where the flowers grow.
Abuse and Love
Truth lies in perception.
So I guess you never really lied to me
when you told me you loved me.
Because maybe in your mind you did.
But your definition of love was conditional,
and I couldn’t live up to those expectations.
So I stepped away
and you yelled sweet slander after me.
Each word taking out a chunk of the earth between us,
as insult after insult it began to disintegrate,
until a crack formed in the ground and separated us.
I offered you my hand,
but you spit on it.
I offered you a rope,
but you set fire to it.
So I stretched my body between our grounds
and offered myself as a bridge,
willing you to walk across me.
But you began to kick my back,
bashing my body into the pit,
Using your fists to brandish my skin,
and leave on me your marks of defeat.
If this is your idea of love,
I want no part of it.
Maybe This Year You’ll Know Better
Every year
I anticipate the first light of spring.
So you and I
Can begin to bloom together.
But that eagerness turns to panic
When I remember
That Winter is stalking close by
Planning to seize
What we once
Were so proud of
And wilt it into something
Lifeless.
This Year You Knew Better
I am blossoming without you,
And you’re withering from my side.
I’ve uprooted the tree you planted in my mind.
And your leaves that once seemed so beautiful
Are dying and falling away one by one.
A Letter to My Love, Ana.
You have been in and out of my life since I was nine.
Nonetheless, every time we meet again it’s like you never left.
Holding my hand through each meal,
teaching me of right and wrong.
You help me when I slip up
To scrape my guts clean.
Bending over the toilet until nothing but stomach acid is left
leaking over my hand
burning my skin.
You help me hide and deceive.
“I’m not hungry”
“I already ate”
You encourage me through the sleepless nights
When the hunger becomes a razor blade,
raking over the walls of my stomach.
You encourage me to keep going.
And when my eyes become rimmed in black
and my complexion turns pale and sickly,
You tell me that I am more beautiful than ever.
And when I am too weak to stand
and too frail to walk,
you clap your hands and cheer that you are so proud.
And when my skin becomes a thin plastic wrap stretched around my bones,
you pat my back and will me to the finish line.
And when I see that you are slowly killing me,
I realize I can’t live with or without you.
And it’s the most addictive feeling.
Children, Go Play Outside
I watch flames flicker in the sky.
In the night, I dance with them.
They are called fireflies,
Lightning bugs,
Little suns that have fallen
And made their homes in the grass.
I catch one in my hand
And watch the fire glow
Through the cracks of my clenched fist.
I begin to run as fast as I can,
So that the other flames do not catch me.
I am glowing.
I get to my door,
And up to my bedroom.
I slam the door shut and turn on my desk lamp
So that it can glow too.
But the lamp’s glow is all that I see,
Because the light in my hand has burnt out.
I stare at my palm, astonished.
All that is left is a pathetic, lethargic beetle.
I sigh and pierce a needle through its heart.
I pin it to a board
Next to all the other flames
I tried to capture for show.
Maybe tomorrow night I will catch the lightning bug’s flame.