THINGS I DON’T WANT TO WANT
I found her through sharp teeth and hard edges,
white through her lips, black hair and leather.
Brown little vials and trust given, not earned.
Throat exposed, neon lights as vandals on skin.
She tells me there’s nothing inside her,
but violets are growing through her ribs.
He loves me when I’m bleeding like this,
playing knife games at the kitchen table.
Hammer games for the living room couches,
with veins and bones exposed only for you.
I’ll act like this is the first time
I’ve thought about smashing
my teeth straight out of my skull.
To be so ugly
that no one has
eyes for me but
Then it's just rain darkening sidewalks again.
Air hanging heavy around my throat.
Yesterday's naming themselves.
Deep down I am just a child
and I am mad at the world
for not spoiling me rotten.
FIRE IN THE DOLLHOUSE
Red raspberries staining our fingertips
and we laugh that it looks like fresh blood.
Ignoring the longing for blood on our own hands,
throats crushing under our fingertips.
My jaw aches, a dull kind of reminder,
of soft hair and softer smiles, too eager to begin.
without clothes, skin cast in shadow,
and pointed toes broken one by one by one.
Your hands are twice the size of mine
and you want to shove them inside me.
You want to taste ruin on my lips.
You want to fuck the sacrifice itself.
You have always been something
to be held out of fear
of what you might do.