Orpheus et Hors d'Oeuvre

Entre séjours et hors d'oeuvre:

I wait for you to notice the direction.

I have grown attached to our routine,

I know you well and you well know me.

Lay your attention upon known fiend.

Entre séjours et plats principaux:

You peek at me between the chatter,

and I just hope I'll catch your eyes.

You then pretend you haven't noticed,

how the silver platter reflects your glance.

Entre séjours et le dessert:

Our tension holds the same polarity.

I am Orpheus, and you, my vice.

But you're no Eurydice, dear Cinderella.

I'll follow you into orchards dark.

Entre séjours et dire adieu:

Mischief awakes as the swan slumbers,

our card is lovers in this forgotten land.

I've walked this way a thousand times over.

A danse macabre or a pas de deux?

Ici il n'y a pas des dieux.

Go To Your Room

And you can’t see it because I can’t let it out.

I look like I’m taking a nap but in my head I’m losing my mind

Im hitting my head again the wall, scratching my knuckles until I bleed, screaming, rolling on the ground

Im breaking furniture and my mood swings so violently I can’t keep up, I can't even look at myself

But I can’t let it out

I don’t know how to let it out

I’ve lived like this for so long, that I physically can’t let it out

My body just shuts down

I get aggressive and I get angry and sad and crazy

And my body gets sleepy, so I lie down

And I close my eyes and disconnect 

All the while inside I’m losing it

And I’m afraid of what it would look like if I ever snapped and let it out

Because there’s so much of it

But all my body lets me do is cry

All I do is scratch my skin and cry

And fall asleep again

And my brain forgets what I even thought or what I even felt

Until it comes back up and I remember

And I fall asleep again.

My Name

The reason I love my name 

Is because I see it as a gift from the people I love.

From the people who love me.

Perhaps I do not feel connected to this existence,

Perhaps my soul live not in the name.

I do not feel connected to the self that others perceive me as,

And my own sense of self is not tethered to their game.

But to me it is not a chain 

that binds me. 

It is embroidered in the towels my grandmother gave me,

It’s written on the birthday wishes that my best friend sent

When we were eleven, twelve.

My name is not me, she's a sister.

I love her, and she loves them, and we love him.

The fourteen year old boy who fell asleep weeping,

The twenty-year old who acknowledged what They were,

and bid kind acknowledgement to Him and Her.

My name is not me, but she is my beloved.

She has cared for me and held me, even

when her love was dearly unwanted.

But we'll move forward, through our life,

for there exists no other who so tightly gripped my hand.

My name is the mask others will see upon me,

But I have never really worn a mask.

I will just live. Exist. And breathe and move on,

expect respect and to love remain open,

For she is not me, but with her I am never alone.

And my name and I will carry on.

And with her gift their life was dyed upon.

So They will walk with ‘her’ in hand,

Because my name is a gift

from people that knew not who I am. 

Blue

 I'm mad

Because I felt nothing for so long,

and I'd never felt anything so strong

Everything is blue,

and everything I gave I gave to you.

Everything is gray,

even now, I clutch at every day.

My heart is closed for reparations,

And I know I need to take time and piece it back up,

but I want to be rid of all these pitiful ruminations.

I want to feel!

I want to feel the gleam in my eyes when I look into another's.

I want to feel the comfort in my heart when I'm held in their arms.

But you never played with my hair,

You never whispered in my ear.

And they will,

whoever it is, I'll feel.

Everything in blue.

The ocean reflected in my eyes,

You will never get to see.

And everything in their hands,

My hair, my heart, my dreams,

My tears.

You can keep the grey.

Keep your smoke, your screams, vomit, the years.

I don't need any of it and I never did,

You never owned any piece of me.

No piece of me is gray.

It's all in my hands now,

and everything is blue.

Rager Rabbit

I am angry.

I am angry at you.

I’ve gone through feeling sad and guilty,

And missing you and being afraid that I’ll never find someone like you.

And hating you,

And being terrified of ever having you again in my life because I feel like you’ll drag me down.

Like you being anywhere near me is going to pull me in your spiral, 

down, down, down.

I’m teetering on the edge of my own ledge,

There’s a hole in the ground and it leads somewhere I don’t want even want to look.

And I’m holding on, I’m too proud to fall back in there,

I’m too proud to ever want you, too. 

I chose myself and I will choose myself, forever.

I feel hurt and angry and used.

I’m the neck and you’re the noose.

You wanted me to be whatever you had in your mind,

And I wanted to be what you wanted, what you could be proud of. 

I tried to be something that you could show off. 

Within the bounds of myself, to become acceptable to your peers. 

To your stuck up, cold hands, and to the friends that leave you in tears.

And that is a fault of mine. I was spineless, I knew not my face.

That was my fault and my mistake. And I recognize it and accept it.

I learned to look into myself only after I'd cut the chain and closed the door.

But I’m apologizing to myself.

Because I fucking hate you. I don’t. 

But it feels nice to pretend I do. 

Kiss Kill

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’re only touchy when we’re in front of your friends

The only time you want to hold me is when I don’t want to

Yet still I put myself into your hands

You’re nothing but a scratch on my shin

Yet the cut grows inwards and makes my body shake inside my skin

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’ll wake up tomorrow and puke as if you regret it

Every time I stay over you wake up feeling sick

I keep wondering why you’re asking me to stay

You only want me because you’re lonely

You want me like a leash held on your hand

If you ask I’ll stay up to run my hands through your hair

Even if my arms get sore and I don’t want to be awake

You’re nothing but the cut on my lip

It’s so tiny but you know it stings like a bitch

I wonder why I’m staying up ’til morning

You tell me “If you want to, go to sleep”

But when I get off the couch and leave you lying

You look at me like I’m the wolf and you’re the sheep

I hate the way you called me darling

As if you really cared for me and loved me too

No, I’m not saying you were lying,

I’m just saying your heart left mine black and blue.

Sunset Angelica

 Angelica,

blooming in the twilight.

The one who left my neck a pleasant purple,

my thighs littered with bruising bites.

Angelica,

shining gold under the sunlight.

Her voice left my wounds appeased and supple,

her music healing my sunrise.

Braiding hair upon a tower, runs her hands along my spine.

Her touch sings praises. Like a flower, I shall bloom under her hands.

Angelica, you are magnificent, please be aware of the fact.

The songs we sang upon cold stairwells were a kindness to my heart.