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To The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart

I do not mean the symbol
of love, a candy shape
to decorate cakes with,
the heart that is supposed
to belong or break;

I mean this lump of muscle
that contracts like a flayed biceps,
purple-blue, with its skin of suet,
its skin of gristle, this isolate,
this caved hermit, unshelled
turtle, ( Read more... )

loneliness is the human condition. cultivate it. the way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. never expect to outgrow loneliness. never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. an intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. if you expect to find people who will understand ( Read more... )

her words pour out as if her throat were a broken artery
and her mind were cut-glass,
carelessly handled.
you imagine her in a huge velvet hat with great
dangling black feathers,
but she shaves her head instead
and goes for three-day midnight walks.

sometimes she goes down to the dock and dances
off the end of it, simply to prove her belief
that ( Read more... )

when i was four years old
they tried to test my i.q.
they showed me a picture
of 3 oranges and a pear
they said,
which one is different?
it does not belong
they taught me different is wrong
but when i was 13 years old
i woke up one morning
thighs covered in blood
like a war
like a warning
that i live in a breakable takeable body
an ever increasingly valuable ( Read more... )