Violently Charming

Of all the things you did

your angst was never at rest

not even in sleep

I could hear the angered words under your breathe

mumbling in argument

teeth grinding, chattering at times

you'd flinch, you'd flail

I opened my eyes

when I looked over at your twisted face

you shouted with eyes closed

your words became clear and you belted out curses

I just lie there watching

you jumped up and raised a fist above my face

I gasp and flinch in shock and fear

your eyes slowly opened

confusion

"Sorry"

Kissed me on the forehead and closed your eyes again

Looking Glass

"The men eyed her with the automatic mix of curiosity, lust, and aesthetic judgement they always gave young women, subject to object, the way you'd stare at an animal. She pretended not to notice. To remind them she was a person was too much effort. Objects bore no guilt."


Sometimes you're nothing but meat. A lamb in a lion's den. Some people ACHE to be the meat. They'd give everything to sacrifice themselves. I never understood it. This vignette of life is mine. Recently it happened, again, it is not uncommon. I could sense the hunter like a bee senses fear. The eyes were locked, prowling, lurking, licking their chops, about to pounce on the meat. They interlaced in the crowd. But I knew where each one was. I felt the past clouding around me like blood in shark infested waters. We were all animals here. The sharks circled me, knowing what I have done. I was unsure if they knew...what they knew, but it felt all too familiar. I wasn't alone in being stalked. I'd been here before. Now I'm on the other side of the mirror. I knew I wasn't supposed to be here, and as I looked back through the looking glass, I couldn't help but wonder if things were different on this side.

Words Like Daggers

If they are objects...
they are the daggers thrown at me
tied to a spinning wheel
A black mass floating out like smoke
from my lips
The enemy
to a glass thought
Your stare is far more piercing
Whose intentions are easier to read
"Haze all clouded up my mind
in the daze of what could've never been"
before I finished the sentence
My heart was pounding
The words dripped down my thoughts
into that dark chasm so few dare to reach for
Your leaps are without hesitation
regardless of how sharp the blades are lining my throat
and even as I'm cut to ribbons
still I see the light in you

As we said goodbye, like a dead twin, always at my side
You said you'd see me in the next life
"What surety there is" I read
"That we will meet again on other worlds"
and then I died a little more

The volume defiant to my need
I couldn't hear your screams loud enough
I flipped through the pages of pain
"brothers and lovers"
Some unable to be labeled
Some afraid to put a label on
for fear I'd have to put them on that designated shelf
unable to escape
actions DENY louder than words
and with each sweet note you sing
or plead
I flinch from the pain
I wonder what he knows
I wonder what he's been told
the words float through my head
taunting and cruel

Walk Away

He said he’d be up late. He said the door was always open; the invite was on the table, any time. I knew it was dangerous ground, but I walked it anyway. I found myself stranded, a common occurrence for me. I had negotiated with a friend that she would drop me off if I went with her to a bar just before for a couple of hours. When I called he was sleeping, so much for staying up late. He picked me up and we went back to his place.
I had been having insomnia for a while. My mind was never still, never calm these days. Something was always eating at me. Lying down to go to sleep was often accompanied with a panic attack. My heart thumped the inside of my chest so hard my sternum ached. My body was shaking, there was a hard lump in the back of my throat and I felt sick to my stomach. My paranoia kept me awake. I always thought someone was looking through my window; someone was trying to get in the front door or climbing up the balcony. Not to mention that my insecurities were beginning to eat me alive.

So as we lay there in bed, I tried to fall asleep. I slept at the very edge of the bed, facing away. He scooted closer and put his arm across me. I didn’t move. I tried not to breathe. He caressed my arm, then my stomach. I was trying to pretend to sleep through an oncoming panic attack. I could almost hear my heart pounding, I’m sure he could too. I’m sure he thought it was cute. I felt sick to my stomach. It became all too clear to me what I thought of this situation. I wondered why I was there, why did I do this to myself? My frustration with myself was almost violent. I wanted to yank out my hair. I wanted to step outside of myself to give me a good slap in the face. I was screaming in my head. He moved closer and I still didn’t move, still didn’t breathe. In my head I was screaming “PLEASE STOP”, but I couldn’t make myself form the words. I never could. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, tried to pretend I was somewhere else. He started to rub my back and I know he could feel my heart pounding. I know he wanted me to turn around. I could feel him lean up over me and pull my hair away from my face, I still pretended to sleep. He pulled my shoulder towards him. He lifted me up and pulled me closer to him. I glanced back at him and rolled back over. No expression on my face. I think I never had an expression on my face when I was in that spot.

I’m not sure I ever went to sleep that night. I just wondered why I torture myself. Why had I become so incapacitated?

It Matches Her Eyes, When She Cries

The distance, a comfortable distance

always sunken deep behind the darkened edges
in the beginning I always needed the edges to be burned

you pulled me into full exposure

burning holes in my body with your hands

I thought it was safe and without meaning

but you turned the tables to my dismay

and before I could take a breath, they turned again

you warned me of what would happen

and the mere suggestion put the thought in my head

by the time I saw it, it was sacrificed for inevitable doom

I couldn't even look at you when you looked me in the eyes

I was scared you'd see exactly what I felt

I've never felt more vulnerable than when you look at me

and never more comfortable

I see those eyes from time to time

looking at me with open doors

gaze meeting with a painful stinging shock

I look, knowing the line is being crossed, I look away

I know you're exactly what I want with the exception of wanting me

Sweet to me and no one else

secretly revealing

revealing secrets

Your grasp never weakened, never moved

I could smell your fear of startling me like a deer you were hunting

Seeing how you didn't want to leave or let go

but you did

None of these things belong to me

I know I could have them

they are at my fingertips

I know the way your eyes wondered towards mine

I stood there diverting my gaze

to your hair, the top of your ear, your shoes

it's forbidden, these things do not belong to me

but I could take them

I know this by the way you are always reaching for me

diverting your gaze from mine

I smell your fear when we are alone and lack of trust for yourself

I know by how you said you would

and how you said you didn't think you could

that you wanted to, but

you're everything I want with the exception of wanting me

We Live This, We Breathe This

I'm standing in a tiny room, filled with probably ten times the legal capacity. The bodies are hot, sweaty and restless, clothed in warm, damp denim, t-shirts and heavy coats. We've been waiting far too long for the headlining act, filling the time with as many drinks as we can hold. It's so humid; it's hard to focus as the crowd is swaying with anticipation and a drunken loss of balance. There's a bar; the crowd is unusually tall, and the type that loves to drink and brawl. We struggle to keep a grasp on our plastic cups of beer and whiskey and vodka as the band takes the stage and the screaming begins. The vodka diluted blood pulses into my ears.


My vision is blurred and my hearing is muffled, a sure sign that the vodka has taken effect. I struggle to keep my eyes focused on the man with a large chest of tattoos that creep down his muscular arms that are gripping the mic tightly. His raspy voice greets the crowd, which roars in response. I try to ignore the girl standing at my side, looking at me. The familiar girl with dark hair and lips grabs my arm and smiles broadly. Through the thick fog of inebriation I make out that she remembers me and that it's been a long time. I nod my head and turn my gaze back towards the tattooed man. As the music growls through the speakers a sudden violent surge shoves the entire crowd forward. I put the elbows out, holding the crowd away from me with my forearms, just as I'd learned to do after years of watching crowds and realizing the inevitable punches, elbows and kicks do less damage to arms than the torso or head. It's been a very long time, but still, I'm used to it. "Are you ok?!" The girl with dark hair and lips grabs my arm. I nod my head and shout the words I know, "Take a trip with me, for soon I will sin!" I see familiar faces in front of me; we all smile and acknowledge our ridiculously frizzy, curling hair that we had discussed earlier was its natural state. The air was like liquid and the bare lightbulb fixture above illuminated a rusted pipe that dripped onto the crowd. Or was it the roof that was leaking the rain water?



I try again to focus on the stage. The tattooed man, in his saturated oversized wifebeater, is dangling from the wires on the ceiling; hovering over the crowd. I feel myself sinking backwards into a dark hole. My view is dark around the edges and I'm staring at the crowd and stage from a distance. It's more difficult to hear the gritty chug of the guitars now. It's getting harder to breathe the thick moist air and everything becomes reminiscent of the youth I've spent wedged into a solid mass of bodies purging aggression to hardcore. The adrenaline releases in a rush to mix with the cheap vodka and redbulls I'd drank earlier. Hostility. I see more faces of friends, but I don't care. I feel carefree...and hostile. My elbows make contact with everyone around me. The boy next to me decides that I should completely support his weight. I decide the floor is better suited for that and use every drop of strength I have to shove him into a cloud of swinging jagged arms and kicking legs. "Are you ok?!" The girl with dark hair and lips grabs my arm. I nod. Just then someone else in the crowd catches my attention. I keep singing, but my gaze isn't on the stage. Suddenly sharp stinging pain explodes between my shoulder blades. It takes me a minute to realize someone had just jumped on me from the stage and I had stumbled back into the sharp corner of a square column. A sign to silence my sinful thoughts no doubt. Funny. "God save me now from my past and present sins once again!"







Security pushes past me in a violent hurry. A cluster of tightly gripped bodies presses towards the door, becoming clogged just behind me. As they're jammed tighter and tighter, my hand and arms are pinned against me, unmovable. I turn my head to see more familiar faces, and still I don't care. Hostility. I can't be here, in this bullshit. Back to the stage. I take a deep breath to unwedge myself and shove and elbow my way just outside of the jammed up cluster. I can tell now that the alcohol is settling me into that angry stage of hatred that used to happen so often. The show is coming to an end and I'll be able to soothe my slick hot skin in the cold rain. The last song ends, they clear a path for the band to exit. We are standing around wondering if we can exit the same way. I see a familiar face, an intense concerned face, "Move! Move! Move!" he shoves past me. Another cluster of bodies violently swing past me, hitting poles of wood and metal as it collapses out of the door, taking half of the crowd with them. "I think we can exit this way now."