Denial in Four Stanzas

 

We’re a happy family,

the three of them and me.

We might have some problems,

but none that you can see.

 

Performance Art

It all started out innocently enough. He made me feel warm and special, and I wanted to see if I could have the same effect on him. That was all it was, at first.

Dear Old Dad

“It’s not that I want them dead, I just don’t want them to reproduce, vote for my president, or serve on my jury.”

“The first date I ever went on was taking a girl in my class to the freshmen dance. She had the biggest breasts I’ve ever seen on someone that age.”

“And the moral of that story is: Never mix your pills with your liquor.”

“In his way, he’s trying to tell you that you’ve got nice tits.”

“Does the pope shit in the woods?”

“I think that in heaven all the non-smokers will have to go outside.”

“Sometimes I look at an actor and go, ‘You know what, that is a very attractive man.’”

“The world would be a better place if all women wore skirts.”

“You can drink if you want to, as long as you don’t mind blacking out and waking up with herpes.”

Ladies and Gentlemen

You’re horribly disfigured–a monster, really. A sagging mouth; hairless, crumpled skin; swimming eyes carved into your head–I didn’t know that people like you actually existed. My body flies into a panic mode every time I see you. For that, I do feel guilty. It’s not your fault that you look this way.

Searching and Fearless

Today you ceased to matter. I know that kills you. You: so powerful, so cunning, so in control. You thought that you had me eating out of your hand; you thought I was your bitch. Well, guess what, baby? That’s over. This is a new chapter of my life, and your part has been written out.

Recognize This

Darling, darling, darling

Reapeating in my mind

Darling, darling, darling

Catching, scratching, freezing, slicing

Darling, dar’in, darl’n

It doesn’t hold together, it’s melting

Dar-dar-dar-ling, dar-ling

I’m twitching, shaking, I stop breathing

Darling? Daaaaaarliiiiiiing . . .

Slower now, but not my heart

Darling, darling, darling

It’s back, and I collapse

Darling.

Done.

Small Hours of the Morning

For months, I thought I loved you. You made my breath catch, my heart race. I didn’t know anything else. How could I? I kissed you, and it was cold. I felt something crack deep inside me. I realized I never loved you.

For years, I thought I hated you. You disgusted me. I felt like gagging at the sight of you there, lying on the floor, washed in the sunlight. You slammed my will into the wall until it heaved a final breath and fell. I don’t hate you anymore, but I can never love you.

For a second, I thought I loved you. We stood there laughing, and you pulled me back against you. Your warmth seeped through my shirt and I felt safe, peaceful. I took your hand and smiled. Your hands are so much bigger than mine, and rougher. I wish I could love you.

There have been times I thought I didn’t love you. Those are anomalous, though, and I always come back. I think I love you more than anyone else in the world, and that frightens me. That kind of love always breaks the hardest.

I wonder if I love you.

Just Say It Once

Immediately I began thinking of you: your voice, your eyes, your smile. Are you the answer? I find it hard to believe. We’re just dancing in and out of each other’s lives. Oh, you’re enthralling, but you’re insignificant. I need more substantial proof that there’s life beyond transient lust.

Still, you’re fascinating.

I know how I must appear to you, and I hate it–I really do. But what’s a girl supposed to say when her dreams just materialized? I wish I could let you know that I’m not usually this slow.

All you do is add to the confusion. I was already dizzy in my aimlessness and uncertainty, and then you came in and spun me around again. The killer thing is, you don’t even know it, do you?

I want you to tell me I’m beautiful.

Spilling

You tell me to be strong

But then you put these treats

In front of me

Tempting me

“Hullo, love”

Chipped Polish

I find that there’s something rather sexy about chipped nail polish. It makes the mind wander. Is it because of her work? Has she been peeling at them?

It’s a chink in beauty. It takes the ideal and brings it down a notch.

Imperfection. The twist. The flaw.

It’s erotic.