Love. Naw. It’s too easy. A cop out really. A way of transforming decay. A footnote beneath the storm. Gasping for air while surrounded by plants. Pain with no reason. Deformed skin cells. A prisoner who survives.
I can’t take it anymore.
Pouring quicksand in my ears.
There’s no such thing as love. Smoke spilling into the room rising up the window shades. It’s a game of charade’s. An unmarked box arriving in the mail. A constellation prize. The only boy left on a stool. A wicked joke. An unplugged freezer filled with fish. There’s fingers in my hair pulling at just the right amount of pressure.
Love. Naw. Just his fingers. And there’s nappy hair tight in a crew cut. Her lips swallowing me whole.
Love. Naw. Just giggles and wine breath.
Then there’s this dog. She looks at me through cracked eyes. Kissing the palms of my hand with her tongue. Making me want to believe. Making me never want to believe again. Making me see ghosts peeking from around corners. A widows mane rippling in the creek. Pan’s face craved from bark. A howl from my rib cage echoing in the mountain nest. Love. I hope not.
I can’t take it anymore.
Someone else needs to breath for me.
I’m damaged. By prejudice. By being a woman. By not being seen. By being alone. I need a phone booth to hide in. My bird to talk to. Food for my belly instead of an empty fridge. Stomping the rats in the floorboards. Tearing the phone off the wall. A slap in the face. Cigarettes my competition. No one asked how I was. How I was feeling. If I was void.
I can’t take it anymore.
My mouth taped shut making it hard to breath.
My dreams as real and my death. Hummingbirds flying high. A note arriving under the door. Beauty turning to ashes.
Love. Naw. It’s only a forest with trees.
I can’t take it anymore.
Pouring quicksand in my ears.
There’s no such thing as love. Smoke spilling into the room rising up the window shades. It’s a game of charade’s. An unmarked box arriving in the mail. A constellation prize. The only boy left on a stool. A wicked joke. An unplugged freezer filled with fish. There’s fingers in my hair pulling at just the right amount of pressure.
Love. Naw. Just his fingers. And there’s nappy hair tight in a crew cut. Her lips swallowing me whole.
Love. Naw. Just giggles and wine breath.
Then there’s this dog. She looks at me through cracked eyes. Kissing the palms of my hand with her tongue. Making me want to believe. Making me never want to believe again. Making me see ghosts peeking from around corners. A widows mane rippling in the creek. Pan’s face craved from bark. A howl from my rib cage echoing in the mountain nest. Love. I hope not.
I can’t take it anymore.
Someone else needs to breath for me.
I’m damaged. By prejudice. By being a woman. By not being seen. By being alone. I need a phone booth to hide in. My bird to talk to. Food for my belly instead of an empty fridge. Stomping the rats in the floorboards. Tearing the phone off the wall. A slap in the face. Cigarettes my competition. No one asked how I was. How I was feeling. If I was void.
I can’t take it anymore.
My mouth taped shut making it hard to breath.
My dreams as real and my death. Hummingbirds flying high. A note arriving under the door. Beauty turning to ashes.
Love. Naw. It’s only a forest with trees.
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