#1472

I carry your lighter in my purse, scuffed and dented silver, the one I like to think you left for me to find, but for what reason? As a sign to wait, to stay faithful despite my doubt? Or to seek you out in alleys that reek of tobacco and piss, in dark places where I am not safe, not wanted? Were you telling me I am necessary, linking me to yourselves with this single found object? Or that I am a beggar at your feet, scrabbling for your castoffs? Were you trying to show me the flame has guttered out or that I should raise my hand and set fire to… what? The world or myself? The past or the present or the future? I have never claimed to know you, specter. I only see what you want me to see. So what were you trying to show me?

#1458

If you must go away, at least leave me a trail to follow for the day my heart grows too restless to restrain; breadcrumbs, blood, tears, bullet shells, shards of glass or pieces of the moon, it doesn’t matter what; I’ll know what you have touched, so just leave me something and I will follow the day I can no longer bear to stay behind.

#1455

she says I should write about myself
what I’m feeling, maybe
(what I won’t admit I’m feeling)
but I’m no good at this
I dance around subjects like a fencer
when I should strike
onetwothree
like a boxer
beat them bloody with my fists
curb-stomp their teeth in
and I guess what I’m feeling
is anger
is fear
is helpless
and what I don’t feel is
safe

(but don’t we all?)

I guess what I’m feeling
is angry
angry at a world I can’t trust
angry at a society built to subjugate
everything I am
everything and everyone I hold dear
so angry I want to lash out somehow
brand myself with ink and metal
unleash ghosts, breathe fire
bleed and scream and sing dirges
just fuck shit up, really
and the irony is this fight’s not even the one that hurts

(the most)

because I’m still feinting my blade
see how good I am?
and the real story
the real thing I’m feeling
is as empty as the house I imagine when I look inside myself
and hear
nothing
and see
nothing
and feel
nothing, nothing, NOTHING
because I have been vacated like someone exorcised
and I wonder if they miss the demons, after
the invasive presence
the madness
the companionship

(it’d be something, at least)

(I’d take it)