Monday, February 22, 2016

Every Day

Scarification mornings with tea and oatmeal
Counting off each day, every day
One slash at a time, an angst burdened teenager in a middle-aged body

(I bought a house, you know. It is big and empty.)

Inhale vitamins to balance wine against fake smiles,
while I dream of a time when Gauloises wouldn't have hurt
Paper embers encircling tobacco,
small and smaller and smallest until I disappear
into the smoke of all I've forgotten

There's Me

Deciding never to write of you after this
Wishing I could do same with these thoughts
of calloused hands cupping my breasts
Of being lifted into your eternity
With each thrust

So now I am pathetic,
the kind of woman-girl at whom I shake my head

Here's Me

Closing in-on a year of oh-so-broken, in quietest whispers,
that my bones crack and separate as I sleep walk through the hours

Took time away from the bottle even
but you were too vivid without a black out

(I blame the flame for all of it.)