I was left unwanted.
The coldest forms of cold are only felt from up close. The tingling whispers of a one inch by one inch slap across my face through a tweet or new photo with her. Why didn’t you call for me when you had the chance? Why did you slip her name into my ear? If all the world was a stage, it’s clear I’ve landed right on my face. Laughed at and unwanted here. Land of dust and dirty lies by friends unfriendworthy. Who calls me here? Who let’s me stay?
Gain pleasure from my pain. I never want to see you again and I probably never will. Unless you curse my cursor with your charm and pull me into a spiraling heaven of clicks and clocks until I ask myself, where did I begin?

Oh yes…




Tumble in the warm grass of your embrace

Rub the sunshine on my face,

hear my bellowing call for grace

and forgiveness to you.

Below all the rumbling of my skin

i still feel the warmth within –

Don’t leave me in his shoes.

Ask Me Why I Loved You

Ask me why I loved you

and I will say a million things;

the way you brushed your teeth

to the way you were angry.

Ask me why I loved you

and I’ll think of all the ways,

you made me fall in love

each and every single day.

Ask me why I loved you

and I won’t mention all the nights

we pushed and pulled each other’s character into plight.

Ask me how I loved you when you pushed your pain on me,

like I should carry it from place to place carefree.

Ask me why I stayed

and I’ll let you in again.

I’ve always had a weakness

for the boy you’ve always been.

Ask me why I loved you

and in that moment I will say,

I couldn’t have loved you more

than the moment I walked away.

Parallel Trains

Time passed unstill

Whittled between my sighs

I thought I heard a passing man once say

He would have to leave it all behind


What were we doing here

Time uncrossed

Running in parallel directions into a different space

Another universe when I had a chance to know you again

Love you

Jump back into that line and

grab that hair I left on your jacket

So you wouldn’t remember me once you got home.

And say goodbye one last time


Damaged Skin

Damaged skin


Like the color of your voice the first time it danced my name.

Strung on time and tales

Lost in a far off place.

Damaged skin

Not far from my mother’s

lonely coat.

Torn apart and put together again.

Patches in her sleeve taught me

there was nothing left to cope.

Damaged skin

A rage of vibrations cast a thunderous applause

For the damaged skin you left me in

When you left me in the dark.

Chris – Prom Night

Black hue around you.

Noises all around.

A broken necklace and missing shoes were all I cared about somehow.

A hand reached in the bushes and pulled the boy off of me while I scrambled to my feet.

The man questioned the boy first and yelled that he was not to be around me.

He turned to me and asked if I knew where I was. I didn’t–

but I didn’t reply because ‘trouble’ was my initial disposition. I ran. Ran to the farrest field to where the man could not see.

I tried to call for help, but no one could hear me. My friends were lost amongst the rows of single-filed rooms that filled our prom night group. And here I was, sleeping in the bushes and without a clue to why he ran away without me too.

He left his smell inside my dress like glue. the sweat of his hand was still on my lips from when he covered my mouth – to keep me hidden to his rue.

I never spoke a word to anyone when I made it to my room. And I never spoke to him again until he asked me to forgive him for he knew nothing else to do. Knowing what he did was wrong and he might be in trouble. I couldn’t reply. I had nothing but silence.

And it’s been that way until today when I found my voice in defiance.


Mother, How did I move in your body when your womb was my water? With synchronized spins and magnanimous kicks? Was it with small hiccups and countless whips? Perhaps pushes from my paws that stretched beyond the glow of globes. What a strange way to see me before meeting me. But how wonderful it must feel to hold your child before touching them. A heartbeat between iridescent walls becomes a prism that passes through our placenta — and I see you. Not with eyes, but through waves and I answered back with one sleepy foot. Cell formations build feelings as well as function and I hope you heard me; asking for forgiveness. Perhaps nine months was too gentle. I should have held tighter to the umbilical cord that held us together. I should have reached for the toughest rib not yet destroyed by the sins of my father. I should have breathed my last breathe when I knew it would be my first. Then… then I wouldn’t have to deal with this pain… stretching into this empty skin.

Eggs for Sale

Time and time again he whispered into my ear and tugged on the loops of my jeans.

“I want to give you a baby.”

The driving force of growing into your thirties has its perks, but the craving of a child is unstoppable and at most times inconvenient.

I’m not sure what led to our passion that night, but it was sexy; the kind you read about in books and tighten your legs to during movies.

Hands: everywhere.

Bodies covered in salted steam, hips swinging from the pendulum of momentum.

The release of him into me was enough to remind me what I was after. I absorbed his sperm with my subconscious like a mushroom blooming in the dark.


I held him there, refusing to let him slip away.

All that was wrong would be wrong again.

You see, we were no longer dating. We hadn’t been for months. But as you age, you see yourself very differently alone. There’s a sudden need for routine; a craving for the familiar. One thing was for certain: I wasn’t curious anymore. I’d been with many men, hardly one more surprising than the next. And it wasn’t the need for sex. Sex was more laborious than ever and I was aging. Twisting the skin on your neck and near your underarms is enough to make someone reevaluate habits and reaffirm self-doubt. One thing is for certain, if you are aging, so are your eggs.

Many times over the past few months I had decided I might be alone and old forever. Selfishly, no one to give me the gift I desired most; to create a life.

All I once I sat up in the bed and coughed to release his life from entering mine.

Is this what I have come to? Hormones become a Human?

My not-yet-thirty year-old body is not yet ready to be responsible for the passion of a one-night stand with an exhausted lover!


…But maybe tomorrow.