broken record

Just regurgitating information
Just the hum of my heart like a slow fan coming to a crashing halt
I feel boring an overtired
and slightly catatonic; want to blame it on the jet lag,
the song in my heart is a broken, skipping record
the song in my heart isn't a song of thirty
and I am desperate for a solution
to time's hand on my chest like a steal grate
Why don't you find me irresistible?
What are you resisting.

Has a hard Time Making Friends

I'm checking my pulse at every stoplight
I am unsure who to be without you around
to create me, mold me into your carbon copy
lay flat on top of you, push me through
the xerox machine, make me perfect black
edges, make me speak like you do
hopeful and tragic and a little bit rude

I can't take the stare, eyes meet
I'm weak, I want to say, the fangs
are removable- most times--
my smile is delicate tracing paper--falls out &
crackles like burnt scraps

I'm not sure if you'd be okay with all of this--
all of the wanting, the fervent longing,
myt mouth wide open for you to slide
words into
Stare at me again, pose me,
a threat so I can react
adrenaline pulse through the crook of my neck,
a vein, purple bruise of the year

In former days I was less afraid
or perhaps I wore a loud mask
and put it over my face
so I could shout at you

I do all of my own stuntwork
I panic on airplanes and pull down my oxygen mask
Kerosine heart, I will
full-throttle,
jet start to your center
I will plow through rubble to find you
sleeping next to me, still perfectly warm.

Read it and weep (or not)

Madeline
　
Oh no
No more
Come on
I do all I can
I do all I can
And when I can’t that just means
I have nothing left to give
To you or anyone
No more begging
No more pleading with your eyes
Grasping wrists
No more trying to pull my eyeballs
Out of my head
No one I love ever pleads
No one I love ever tugs my wrists
Ot tries to bend the pipe cleaner
Of my heart
No one I love bothers to call
They make pacts with the devil
They click their spurs down highway 61
They scream and they spit blood cum
But no one I love ever comes
When I call their name
When I drag my body toward mirrors
Rearrange the lipstick and outline
The eyes in kohl
And try to impress
In the wrong dress
A funeral dirge rings
The bells of my ears
I am always teetering halfway
Between hell and high water
I am always expecting the worst
When I turn around
Half expecting that you won’t be
There anymore
There are songs I sing with my heart
The pull of my face against concrete
The slip and slide of my thin skin
Breaks blood on pavement
My fragile skull snaps off the chicken bone
Of my neck
You know, you do all this to me, lover
You do all of this so carelessly
As if you spilled milk
As if someone else is there behind you
A nurse maid or a janitor
To clean the mess of me up.