“Here I Go Again”

I’ve been staring at you for so long,

you seem to have lost your legs.

I want you to walk away,

because I’m me and you’re you.

You know yourself too well to end up with someone like me,

who knows nothing.

I don’t know myself.

Or maybe I do.

Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to speak,

when you enter a room.

I torture myself,

it’s just something I do.

Sorry,

I’ve disappointed you.

“Through My Fingers”

Close it.

The door,

the one with the crystal knob.

You shouldn’t watch this part.

Your sister,

mother,

lover,

brushing their teeth with red paste.

A thighbone,

cracked in two:

a jewelry box.

The ballerina who broke her legs,

lying in the bathtub,

her bun undone.

The curtains are yellow,

and your wrists are pink,

pressed against the glass.

Make a wish.

“Vein Vines”

There are tulips underneath your fingernails,

and dandelions in your hair.

Don’t let me go,

to that place on the corner.

I don’t want to trade.

Do you know what a needle looks like?

I love you.

Your eyelids are blue today,

the same color as your coffee mug.

Did you find my smile?

The same color,

as the ink on your chest?

It’s under the kitchen sink,

if you want to share.

 

“There Came a Time”

She considers drowning a lovely thing.

Words and ink,

her preference.

Throwing her lungs over her shoulder,

as she dives into the mess,

but not suicidal.

She is existing, at best.

We all have our hobbies.

She stops,

touching her pearly throat,

nails digging in.

She can’t stay,

the waves piling above her head.

A witch,

with a forked tongue,

pulling her farther along.

Time to make a decision.