Beware the drunk girl
Empty bottle in her hand
With the broken heart

i don't know why i expect it
to change
after these years
he says i just wanted to hear your voice
and as an afterthought
i'm having a baby girl
in february
he gets mad
and says like you give a
shit
he wants me to
i say you know it's more complicated
than that
and it's silent
i stand in this room
dark and surrounded
and when i'm next to him
i still feel like the beauty queen
runner up
stripped and defeated
for showing my tits
to some photographer
for a hundred bucks to pay the
light bill
secretly i smile though
i'm still prettier
smarter
and more than you'll let yourself have
so as to not be
outdone
and that's fine
the music is good
the liquor is cold
and that baby girl in february
will break your heart
just like
i did

going home
they say you can't do it
but i will
just like i did that brown boy
when mom and dad said i couldn't
you people never learn

we'll sift through the smoke
at the bar and the
ashes of our thoughts
philosophies
sex lives
and figure out where we went wrong
and wonder why no one else
can get it right

the girl sitting on the end
will say
that's why i've loved you for three years
you're so raw
and honest
and i'll laugh at the girl
she used to know
and drunk dial the boy
who gets hard
at the mere thought of argument
with me
that's why he loves me

others will stare
others will snicker and say
oh god, she's back
they'll hand me another tall
double
and i'll smile
they don't know that for $9.25
i've just answered the
big question

She's perfect
Fire-red headed and all
I wondered when she would start to grow
Unseen and unknown
And I watched her struggle
And her resistance to
Finding a presence in this world
But that smile
Oh that smirk
That all-knowing look
Inherited maternally
The fierceness of the world at her doorstep
Her mind doesn't know
And her heart doesn't care
She is a conqueror innately
And she has overcome
Before the battle lines
Have even been drawn
That tiny hand begins to grasp
Infinite possibilities
Each muscle move
A strength defined
A lifetime awakens
Unknown
And yet
Already vanquished

Living up to this standard
I quit when I turned
Fifteen and a half
Because that's when he kissed me
And I knew everything they'd been telling me
Was a lie
I just wanted to be safe
And no safe place was found
But the cool Friday nights
Felt right
And smelled like cheap cigarettes
And sweet like love
And still do
I've been coerced
And questioned
And taunted
And accused
And I've never apologized
I never will
Because I'm being the most real me
I can
And I know you are only
Maybe twenty-five cents
On my dollar
And I got lots more to make
You keep talking
And I hear you
I know you're surprised
But this is a small town
And your loyal friends
Are just like you
So quit being so sad
Little southside girl
You put that face on every day
For the life you're supposed to have
Pretty girls
With prettier clothes
Try authenticity for five minutes
And the next time someone asks you
How you met your made man
Tell them it was in a bar
See how honesty feels
It's addicting

You're bone dry
He says
2006
The summer, was the last time
I laid eyes on you
Awkward & tense
Like we'd never
Sullied ourselves on the
Unswept office carpet
Before
Like you never whispered
Your love
In hot breaths
Between tears at midnight
Before
Like you'd never wondered
What our child
Our family
would become
And he wonders why I can't
Stop crying
Amidst the stumbling words
And the vodka-produced
Overreactions
I'm trying my damnedest
To make a life here
In love and not hope
Or desperation
But lately it's seeming like
Twelve of one
Half a dozen of the
Other

hands
rough and worn
cut sometimes

he works
and works
I wait

my body aches for him

for his hands
for his closeness
the warmth of his mouth
and the heaviness
of his limbs
draped across me

throw open the windows
let the snow come in
encircle us under the down
we wouldn't even notice

but he works

he works

We cope in the
strangest ways.

I immediately go
to that dark room
curtains pulled

with your soft skin
hovering over me.
Your breath
your fingertips
sailing effortlessly
yet intently
over the plains of my body.

We created heat
just being on the same planet.
The cosmic force was
undeniable and intense.

I have loved you and I have
craved you and I have
hated you.
But I always go back to that room.

You left at dawn
in tears.
Your life was waiting
in different rooms.

I wonder if in the stillness
of a sleepless night
you ever go back there
to that room
and that heat
and those minutes that flew by
like dust
in a windstorm.

a grub in this
lot of weeds and dead leaves
that's you

you rise to the highest point
of the dead things
and proclaim yourself queen

you scream and shake
and over-caffeinate
and secretly wish you could do anything

as well as me

hope hope
wait wait
try again

think about what I
want out of
life

it's one thing one day
and something different the next

committing with eyes closed
has always worked best
don't think too much
just do

then we'll dig out
or revel in the soil

Ghosts have been
Popping their heads out
Of the strangest corners lately
And so predictably

Going to bed mad
Is my subconscious' equivalent
Of a Chopin novella

So much scandal

And not an ounce of guilt or regret.

It was vivid and actual
this wake-sleep,

just like it used to be.

That sucking, gaping vacuum-
that feeling in my chest,
the desperation and longing-
that hating the leaving, but still
needing to be left

just for that feeling.

The reuniting and oh
the scandal.

It's the sideshow in me
that it speaks to.
If you give me twenty minutes
I could hook you for life.

My little fish
on the line, but with
much more power than
you will ever know.

It's like muscle memory
only with weather

It comes around when the seasons change
but mostly in autumn

or on holidays
or during football season

I'm a grown woman now
things should wear off
be different

I imagine what it would be like
to see you again
we'd exchange pleasantries
and pretend we didn't want to say
the things that needed to be said
but just for a while

then we'd say them

And I'd cry and scream at you
for not being the man
I knew you could have been

And you'd curse at me
for not accepting you for who you were
and we'd dance around the
loss
es.

Nothing was ever good
I don't know how it's possible
that one can miss
an idea, a wish,
something that never was
for so long

It sickens me.

you wore that shirt you always wear
you know the one
with the pearl snaps and
the sleeves you roll up
and push up over and over again
unconsciously in the middle of a story

I don't know if your hair was
up or down
it didn't matter

you caught me off guard
when you put both arms around
me
and pulled me close
cheek to ear
breath hot on my skin
(my heart leapt)
you whispered

you're the best friend I've ever had

I awoke
disappointed

Some days the nights seem
too far away
And my happy thoughts just turn
to gray
and this poetry
it doesn't move me

But your muddy eyes like
a winter rain
They draw me in and
make me stay

Could it be so sad?
Is this life so bad?

I'm a silly girl
with complicated ways
you think you'll change me
one of these days

you'll try
and you'll cry

but please stay

girlhood.

I guess it's just something
I thought would pass with
time.
The whole world said it.
They conspired from the very beginning.
Lined it out.
Stacked it up.
Here's the path. Do it right.
I must have really thrown them
for a loop
those few years in college
when I made a deal with myself
to only date married men.

But I stopped.
Because one of them decided to marry
me.

And so now I'm wondering
when the growing up happens.
And what does that mean?
I look at the calendar and
I can see the years,
but the 7th grade handwriting of a girl
so full of longing that
she would sell her soul to Satan himself,
still fills my bookshelves.
And the girl who gets drunk
and naked
and jumps into the nearest body
of water
seems to consistently make her presence known.
And it's doubtful she's tired
of her late night tirades.

I'm beginning to think this "growing up" thing
is a figment someone's tried to sell us
Like June and Ward,
with her Valium and OJ.
And maybe this step,
this committing and this trying,
is something that will only make me
that much more alive.
So maybe it is a growing--
but a perpetual means in itself,
not an end.

It's come to this-
shame and guilt and fear
and a couple years.
(Has it really gone so fast?)
I try not to see you
across the room,
and still try to move closer
to see if you can stand it
without buckling
caving
craving.
Do you remember springtime?
The middle of the night
lying on our backs
between the trees and gravestones?
You cried.
You always cried.
I kissed your tears--
I was a foolish girl, far from home.
But you weren't,
were you.
The one day you didn't beat the postman to your door.
You had a decision to make--
and you did.
(I can't believe she let you.)
There are nights
I know
when you're alone
in the silvery glare of midnight,
you toss and turn still
afflicted
tortured
and craving softness in the
wee morning hours,
none is to be found.

And I hate you more than I thought I could.

i walk alone
on this road
sometimes i think it's best
but i find in time
i need you
to put the demons to rest
I reach for you
against my will
a force that pulls your way
emptiness
it finds my hands
and fills my soul today

I have so much
to tell you
but it's never the time
your world is crowded
with love and mysteries
like war crimes

this need in me
was born in me
try to kill it til it's dead
i keep wanting
what you can't give
and it's messin up my head
you're the one
who promised
you would lead me back
but you keep adding
twists and turns
and marking up the map


I have so much
to tell you
but it's never the time
your world is crowded
with love and mysteries
like war crimes


did you know i watch you
when you think
i'm not there
i wonder if you hear my voice
at night in your prayers


you pray
i'm on my knees
you plead
i try to please
what should come for free's
too high a cost
i can't pay and
sometimes I get lost

I love how some days, something will hit you square between the eyes, like while your doing laundry or just lounging around in general. Like days when you're trying to lead as inconspicuous a life as possible, and making your best attempt at being totally normal. And it comes to you in seconds. And it's usually life altering, or at least presently life altering. And you get a good look at yourself in the mirror someone else holds up. A good day is when the picture is prettier and more perfect than you thought. But more often than not, and today is one of those days, it's a horribly nasty image that you can't even bear to look at.

What have I done to myself? And why do I keep doing it? But what does it mean that it doesn't even occur to me to feel bad until someone else insinuates there's something wrong with me?

When it happens it never even occurs to me to say no. This is not normal from what I gather. I should say no more often, but I don't mean it. So isn't that the equivalent of telling a lie? Why am I so wrong for this? And why do I feel like I should be walking down Robinson with smudged mascara and holes in my fishnets? And why are the only people who want to hug me, betraying someone else to do so?

Sealing the Deal

I think you'd better come over.
I think
I
just
might.
Don't you love
enduring two hours
of subtitles
when the vodka flowing
through your veins
is so thick
everything looks like
a fabulous sea kingdom?
Watch!
Watch!
Ok, I am...
trying not to pass out.
Get to it if you're gonna.
But he makes me wait.
And he has from the
very
first
time.
Then it's fingers
and tongues
and mouths
and fingers
and tongues
And more words
and Oh
Oh
Oh.
And part of me thinks
I pressed him too hard
but he folded me in
like no one ever has
And he's done everything
right the
first
time.
And he doesn't even like me.