you're the girl
covered in words
I mean scars
I mean hearts

What are you so afraid of?
What are you so angry for? 
So mad about?

don't pout
be brave
don't shave

unless you want to
slip into old habits
slit a bit of time off
and steal away a few pieces of your mind

fanned pages
blister
wrinkle
water burned
born from my soul
blister black
fickle
purple
pain
fire throat
fire throat 

How can you
ask for help
from behind a door
you locked?

pop
     pop
           pop

watch my teeth
drop
       down
                brown from my skull

pop
     pop
           there goes my vein

arteries
             arteries
                           lead to the brain

sick
      flick
             flick my wrist pink

pink is better than red
red is better than dead

busy
       body
              journal
                           bleeding

I 
 think
          I'll
              fly
                  away

 you weren’t born broken like the rest of us
 you weren’t even made broken
 you’re just you 
 bitten off whole
 from your mother’s broken womb
  
 we are all made who we are by our mothers
 either because of them
 or in spite of them
 but you came out whole
 and you picked up her pieces
 even though it wasn’t your job
 and no one expected it
  
 now I’m yours
 and you fill in all the missing pieces
 but I don’t want you to fix me
 you’ve already done that enough
  
 now it’s your turn
 to be the taker
 I need to fix myself
 so I can give my all to you 

 rereading what I write
 is like reading the words of a stranger
  
 I don’t know her
 I am her
 I am who am
  
 the god of my brain
 with no self-control
 what 
 so 
 ever
  
 and it makes the acids in my stomach sour
 the back of my mouth closes
 it’s hard to swallow
  
 labored breathing
 labor pains
 as I realize who I am
 my chest swells
 too tight
 I am drowning
 in blankets
 I can’t swallow
  
  
 breathe in
 not enough comes out
 acid burns
 turning
 like tiny tidal waves
 rolling
 over dead
  
 how could I have ever felt this way?
 I don’t understand people
 who feel the need to find themselves
  
 who am I?
 I’ve always known
 never looked 
 I don’t know
  
 how did I ever feel
 the way I felt yesterday?
 how did I ever feel
 the way I felt tomorrow?
  
 could I ever have been
 so sad
 really 
 when I feel so happy now?
  
 but that happiness
 is really relief
  
 I better believe it now
   

 don’t 
 be
 so 
 complicated
 people don’t always like
 what they can’t understand  

 growing up
 my mother used to tell me
 during her more lucid moments
 of motherhood
 that people who lie often 
 lie enough that they believe themselves
 and I used to think that wasn’t true
 like 
 how could that be possible
 when surely
 we all live in the same reality?
 but the older I get
 the more I realize
 she was right
 and maybe in that strange way
 she knew herself
 the way we all eventually understand ourselves