Are you sure you need dessert?

Mommy was happy when I was good.

I was good when I was quiet.

I was good when I did what I was told.

Then I got older

And Mommy wanted me to be pretty too.

She said—

“If you let me pluck your eyebrows I’ll take you to Marble Slab”

That’s the fancy place mommy’s boyfriend

took her.

She pinched the tweezers and

pulled just one hair out of my face.

I cried.

I got ice cream anyway.

I guess that means

ugly kids can have ice cream too.

Law of Energy Transfer

Searching for love is like

trying to catch lightning in a bottle.

The trick is–

You can’t close the lid

for anything less.

Not fireflies. Not stars.

Those things can burnout.

When you catch lightning–

When you feel its energy–

You’ll know

it will stay lit forever.

*Inertia can add to the thrill of the ride by sometimes making the force of gravity seem more pronounced.

Open up, pour the gas, strike the match

Remember the big blue pills

you would set on my tongue?

Make me open up so you could inspect

that everything was gone.

So you could know you did everything

you could

It’s me that’s wrong

It’s me that’s broken

It’s me you can no longer

control.

But you did everything

you could

It’s not your fault I hid

the pills in other parts of my mouth

but

It’s me that you cannot drug because

It is me

and I said no.

Murder in Stockholm

I dreamt his wickedness dead-

no one knew

until I solved the mystery

of where when how

and then the blank bodies

faces I can’t remember

if they had one at all

I ask them- Did he die?

they all say yes

as if they knew, as if I told them

December 2nd was the last day he was seen

now, everyone knows he’s dead

I searched for every moving photo of us

of him alive

I gathered them up, I pinned them

the dead man that took something from me

Save him

He took something

he’s not lost yet

precious- away from me

I woke and asked myself

of why of what

of any sign of meaning

I killed him. It was me.

All the memories

I attacked t(him) in Stockholm on December 2nd

he’s dead, they’re dead, he’s dead

and I can’t remember t(him) at all

Let me get you some water

Take it easy on yourself

Isn’t that what I’m here for, doc-

Can you show me what I don’t know?

what it means to not find fault in perfection

like my mother-about my body

the way I chew

I’m grown now and I keep my distance

throwing medals backwards

They don’t belong to me

I keep a distance between

people I need to dress in smiles

I need a place to rest but

I never could get my muscles not to twitch

I only knew how to pick up the pace

Sprinting hard- I want the distance grand

because even if you could catch up-

you’d have to pass all my trophies

Only then you’d catch me and

you could be proud, but not me

One day I found where I dropped my baton

found purpose by mistake

I picked it up, I started to run home

with an urgency of something

I needed to survive.

I got there and fell to my knees.

The little girl stared back at me

Eyes locked, I asked for what we needed-

Can I give you a hug?

Mislabeled Clown Makeup

Boxed up my trauma, needed to contain it

Placed it in storage in the back of my head

My access is blocked

but it works as a liquid- dull

suffer leaking like a virus

Too small to see, just not to feel

the cloud consuming my chest

But it had to come from somewhere,

didn’t it?

I don’t know what to do.

If I surrender to the pain

will I be glued to the floor?

How long before the tackiness dries?

Could I break from paralysis

while I wade through the concrete-

to reach the storage-

the box marked: Do Not Open-

but the container, where it lives-

it must know it’s here, so I ask…

What’s inside the box?

You said you were worried & I held onto it like a treasure

I was not invisible

You could see me

in the wading crowd

not another faceless mask

,floating into a train,

but it was my face

You saw it

burnt, bent

The way it had frozen

,stuck in place,

You also saw my tethers

bounded, chained

No one else saw

what I carried

,down the same track,

but it was my heart

You felt it

burnt, bent

The way it had frozen in place

,and still never given up,

Windshield

caved in, like glass

cracks still hold, if tension does not

let go-

the pain; be the shield, even though

I’m made of glass?

stay safe, stay numb

stay tethered and tense

don’t break- you’ll shatter

build a new? salvage shards

distort the view

ahead, if we’re clear

you can see

I didn’t break from you,

I broke for me.