when
it finally
came
time for
him to
leave,
he
packed up
all my
poetry
in a
suitcase
& took it
with
him.
- first my heart, then my words.
he
promised
to fix me
&
he left me
more
s h a t t e r e d
than i had been
before.
- but now i’ve got gold in the cracks.
i have
so much love
to give,
but no one
ever wants
it.
- a cup overfilled.
if
love
is a
battlefield,
then i
must have
forgotten
all of
my armor
at
home.
- a war i never agreed to fight.
i spent
my dreams
picking
my teeth
out of
the
carpet.
- what does dream dictionary say?
my
mom
told the
nice doctor
she was seeing
starbursts
in her eyes
& they were
almost
beautiful
to her—
like the
fourth of
july
had decided
to come
early.
the doctor
hesitated
before
breaking the news
to her.
“those aren’t
stars.
it’s cancer.”
- 40 years a smoker.
it was
while we were
drinking our
usual
late night
coffee.
without
a tremble
in that
gravelly voice
of hers,
she turned
to me
& said
her last
dying wish
was for me
to spread her ashes
over the ocean
so she could
finally go
back
home.
- a mermaid escapist.
when your mother
begins to forget
your name,
you begin
to wonder
if you exist
at all.
- stage 4, terminal.
irony:
when your
healthy
& intelligent
& strikingly
beautiful
sister dies
less than
a month
before
your terminally ill
mother.
- nobody realized you were just as sick.
minutes
before
your mother
made the
death call,
i
smelled
your
warm vanilla
perfume
& my
mouth
filled with
the taste
of dirt.
- death is one of the senses.
children are not
meant to die
before their
parents.
i was not
meant to grow
older than
my oldest sister.
we were meant
to be
four sisters,
not three.
you were not meant
to be a can of ashes
on your mother’s
bedside table.
after all,
you were the one
who always burned
the brightest.
- fate is a fucking lie.
the worst
part is never
being able
to know
if it was a
s u i c i d e
or not.
- the truth will free me.
she
once
made a
promise
to
save
me
when
all
along
we
should have
been
saving
her
from
herself.
- please come back.
sister—
wherever
you are now,
i hope there is
a beach.
- starfish will always remind me of you.
fuck you,
cancer,
for taking away
the possibility
of the mother
i will never
ever get to
have now.
- 11/03/10.
your
death certificate
makes
the claim
that
you died on
november 3rd
at 3:03 AM.
that is a
lie.
you died
long
before that.
- 3 isn’t my lucky number anymore.
when
a loved one
dies,
they say
you should
open a window
to let out
that final
wheezing
breath
so their soul
can
be
set free,
but hers is
still here
with me.
night
after night
after night,
she pounds
her fists
on the walls
of my dreams,
begging for
me to tell
her
the way
out.
- the other side.
one funeral:
tears of grief
for a life lost
too young,
too soon—
a tragedy.
the other:
tears of relief
for a suffering
that lasted
far too long—
a mercy.
- & yet both hollowed me out.
for the
better half
of a year
i was terrified
every time
the phone rang
in case
it was another
death call.
- 3 more would come.
everyone i love leaves.
how many
funerals can
someone attend
before they turn
nineteen?
- the cursed family.
grief
clung to
her
like an
old,
itchy,
faded,
ill-fitting,
hand-me-down
dress.
death
wound
itself
around
her
bones
like
a
piece
of
red
ribbon.
i never
expected
death
to
be my most
faithful companion,
but she is
the only one
who will come
without
having to be
asked.
- the only one who will never leave.
is
there
such a
thing
as
dead
mother’s day?
months after
my mom
died,
i found the book
she was
reading
last
with a yellowing
receipt
still tucked inside,
marking her place,
& it finally
hit me
you
will never
get to finish
this particular book
you will never
get to start
or finish
another book
ever again
you will never
get to see me
graduate
from college
you will never
meet the love
of my life
you will never
be there for my
wedding
you will never
read these words
we will never
ever ever ever
sit on the back porch
& swap ghost stories
over steaming
coffee mugs
ever
ever
ever
again.
she
won’t
stop
haunting
me.
- my ghost.
he
won’t
stop
hunting
me.
- my ghost II.
fuck the idea
that there is
such a thing
as destiny,
that there exists
some kind of
mysterious master plan,
that there is a god who
simply
does not
give us anything
we cannot
handle.
the pain
did not
make me
a better person.
it did not
teach me not to
take anything
for granted.
it did not
teach me anything
except how
to be afraid
to love anyone.
i am
far too
young
to be so
goddamn
broken
&
if i could go back
in time
& give
myself
her childhood
back,
i would.
- what was the point?
maybe
i find it
so hard to
believe in
heaven
because
i don’t know
if there
will be
poetry
there.
- legitimate concerns of a mortal.
i had a
big smile
on my face
as i burned
the bridges
to all the things
i could not
repair.
- does the smoke still choke you?
it took
losing him
to finally
find
myself.
it took
losing him
a second time
to be sure
of myself.
that
was my
first act
of
self-love.
- i would thank you, but we both know you don’t deserve it.
who would
i have
been without
the inspiration
behind my
demons?
- probably not a poet.
i am
caught between
mourning
you
&
thinking
your death
saved
me.
- will you ever be able to forgive me?
the princess
jumped from
the tower
& she
learned
that she
could fly
all along.
- she never needed those wings.
III. the queen
once upon
a time,
the princess
rose from the ashes
her dragon lovers
made of her
&
crowned
herself
the
mother-fucking
queen of
herself.
- how’s that for a happily ever after?
in my
mind’s eye
i always see you
sitting by yourself
at the kitchen table,
smoking your cigarette
& drinking your coffee
& wanting to be
anywhere else
but here
with
us.
- were you set free?
maybe
we will meet again
in another place—
a place where
forgiveness grows
as lovely as
the tomatoes
used to grow
in your
garden.
- the shiny red hope that gets me through late nights.
when
my mother
died
i finally
got to
meet
my father,
who i
had seen
every day
for
nineteen
years.
it’s true
what they
say:
the weight
of
shared
grief
can either
bring you
together
or
drive
you apart.
- it’s never too late for a relationship.
when you choose
to sit upon a
throne
made up of
lies
&
the bodies
of the people who
mistakenly thought
they could
t
r
u
s
t
you,
the only
thing left
to do
is
f
a
l
l.
- but i bet it was fun while it lasted.
what ever
will you do
when everyone
stops believing
your
red lipstick
stained
lies?
- friends can break your heart, too.
i bet
you regret
making
an enemy
out of
me.
- 1 back, 2 knives.
i wonder
how many times
you touched her
& had to
pretend
it was
me.
- does it still sting?
i hope you
treat her better
than you
ever
t
reated me.
- you can have my forgiveness, but you can’t have me.
please
believe me
when i say
revenge
was
never
my intention.
- but it still tastes sweeter than honey.
you the
brought needle
& i brought the thread.
we meant to mend our
two broken hearts,
but we ended up
stitching them
togeth
er.
if he was
my cup of tea,
then you are
my cup of
coffee.
tea simply
isn’t
enough
for me
sometimes,
but
coffee
can get me
through
anything.
- did i make you up?
before he left,
he wrapped my heart
in layers of
briars & barbed wire
to make sure
that no one else
could ever get in,
but you were
more than willing
to bloody
your hands
for me.
- you never even got pricked.
his talent:
he never
once
had to use
his hands