Category: Depression

SINNER

read the back of the
label: it will tell you
your sins for the day
but there will be no
advice for repenting provided. do
it yourself with slimy digits
coughing over the toilet. be
discreet: the sound of a
splintering facade is harsh on
young ears and of course
apart from slim you must
also be strong.

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SWEATY BALLS

i think
the most pain i felt
through all of that
were those two nights
where you slept
fully clothed,
in your sticky t-shirt and your
nylon shorts all clinging
to your hairy thighs and your
sweaty balls in the
sweltering heat

you laid face down with
your head turned away and
for those two days you didn’t
shower

you slept
with your arms wrapped
tight around your
chest and you wouldn’t
come closer to
me so I laid there
near but not too near
staring at the
ceiling terrified
i’d bother you
terrified
i’d lose you
knowing
you were already
lost.

LUNGS

they come crawling
like clawed children
in hallways, in day – light
and night – light,
the worst ones of course
in the

dark

everywhere
hands grasping in
from the walls and
you will love the way they feel
when they
touch you

this place isn’t safe
for lovers or dancers
or birthers or swimmers
questionable even
for saints

build an altar
get a stepstool
squeeze my
waist and burn
this whole
place to ashes i

want

to inhale you
like fiberglass dust
in my lungs all
blue and purple
dressed with flowers
anointed with
venom and tea tree

oil

i found some leaves
on the ground in
lisbon on these
steps in the
rain and the darkness
made them greener

they looked like lungs creased down the
middle so i picked one up and
held it to my chest and
inhaled

(2/2)

I cried for you in the kitchen last night
before I remembered
I live alone,
just like I wanted.

GROWTH

GROW A PAI R.

i want to
sha. ke you

GROW A PAIR.

I want to br eak that glass over your fac e

GROW A P AIR.

how much time you’re w a s t i n g

GROW A PAIR.

useless
thing just
standing

GROW A PAIR

knees jut ting in just

GRO W A PA
IR

there’s nowhere to run n ow

GROW

you know

GROW A PAIR.

I hate you more up
close

GROW A PAIR.

if you could
just

GROW

you stupid

GROW A PAIR

cunt, you

GROW A PAIR.

so  sick of   you

GROW

so s i c k
so

GROW A PAIR.

we accept the love

GROW A PAIR.

we
deserve

GROW A PAIR.

we think
we know

GROW A

pair of nothings

GROW

together

A PAIR

you and I

GROW

we

GROW

GROW

GROW

GROW

WE STARTED AT DAYBREAK 

three girls who couldn’t be alone: some dirty seething tracks in our family line that crumpled us and hooked us on the backs of conquerers for survival. you say I am a free woman but you wonder when the husband’s coming (as we know those tend to wait just around the corner.) the free woman now in the family and finally I have eyes to see, a life spent hiding my head (despite its size) between the thighs of creature comforts to distract from the very illness of just waking. you say I’m independent but depending can keep a person breathing for a while longer if the tank’s still got juice and the tracks don’t run too deep. only me to rely on: a bottle of iodine and a whole lot of gauze to get me through another night as creature comforts just don’t cut it anymore. time better spent on a threadbare single mattress with a hand in your pants and a distant memory of central heating. look out there, see those mountains? men go trekking there alone and do it fine and well. I’d go but it’s too risky for a woman alone so I’ll just keep to this mattress and cooking for one and wearing my underwear inside out because laundry can’t be done for another two weeks (shower wash on a dime with your feet while standing and hang-dry on a flammable heater.) even the best of laundry machines don’t always get the job done, you can’t erase a bleach stain or pretend you weren’t bleeding. the iron stays with you and so do the scars.