You

Today was wastage
(I ate a muffin)
my thoughts are harmless
but they damage my ego.
i'm self-preserving, phobic of failure.
Do I ever jump, really in deep... (?)
No. I gently role out of his bed
and walk into my Snow White universe
To Wait.
My eyes are half-open. Half-alive
My memory is made-up logic.
And I ate too much today
Scales will jump, and I will fall backwards
into cycles.
Lacking other cycles...
monthly nothingness.
Numb. Did he feel my hip bones when I was numb?
Did he feel the bones crawling down my back?
I imagine each notch to be a milestone.
when I'm tired my words are crazier.
Because I think clearly creative.
Finger paintings
cold finer tips, cold on his face, cold in his hands, cold inside my mittens.
Running, running, running.
RELEASE.
A sign. Something, its not nothing.
People try to feed me.
Yogurt, Jack Daniels, Potatoes.
Please, just realize that while he was thinking of her, I was thinking of You.
far away.
in a city where I live, not now, but it is my my home.
and this is not. Home, it is not.
Home.
East Coast? Home?
Central, my heart is linked. But I know that
the continent in the center of the map is where I belong.
Heaven. The Hell of the world is my heaven.
Because there is only hope in hell.
Look past my coldness.
Look past my thoughts of You.
Rejecting his handfuls, I really just want to be beside You.
... the blue-eyed one.
In an electric charged air, in a stadium, in a bed with your sister on the opposite end.
I remember eating pasta and finishing wine,
and snacking on fish and chips.
Now, this notion that I can only reach You if I'm ethereal.
I can somehow float into Your world.
Surprise. I'm sitting naked on the edge of his bed, smiling but not happy.
6:30 am.
I should take these caffeine pills for breakfast, and rip my thoughts apart the whole day long.
Again. Detroit suburbs. summer, and then winter.
Feed me, but with Your god-damn beauty.
Your games, Your joint rolling in Your father's bachelor pad.
People see me as a weak-willed fairy tale character.
A big-boned stepsister.
East. Eating cookies. Listening to music on the beach, thinking of You.
Waiting. Do You know that I wait?
Like a universal traveller. Can We meet half way?
I keep writing. Trying to find what it is I need to say.
Words are so bloodless.
Protein bars, so that my silhoutte emerges.
Do I want to disappear? Or become beautifully visible?
Neither. I want to float to You.
without a trace.
without my weight pulling me into the Earth.
I'm just your regular Taurus.
reading horoscopes, magic eight balls. watching tea leaves in my empty mug.
Fixed to the soil.
A tourist in my own city, trying to conjure up clarity.
Someone once told me I was Jaded.
I remember eating Melba toast for lunch that day.
And a Power Bar and coffee for dinner.
To angel my jaw. To sharpen my smile.
To sit at the edge of the right bed.
To avoid fingers down the throat.