Cheatercheater, stop and beat her.

The finger you point is the finger I break.
The words you slather are flaking and fake.
I'm bitter, you're better.
Blown me off like I'm a feather.
I needn't choose,
Love comes in one's, not two's.

Hi, my name is _________

Hi,

I'm Sewagetrash. I'm sloshing around in the gutter beneath your shiny grippy shoes.
I'm Sewagetrash. I was dropped like a penny from a hole in your pocket.
I'm Sewagetrash. It's not worth the repetition because there are evident clues.
I'm Sewagetrash. A rocky concrete path, the bruised walls of a socket.

Petty Proof.

He's spinning tops and words that stop.
Sugar canes and jars of jelly.
I'm sitting pretty in a tank,
I'm sitting pretty in his belly.

Drying petals, won't you settle?
Soft like lips that stretch to the tips.
Bristling in the wind,
like hanging flesh I skinned.

Sweetness in the walls of your throat stays afloat.
Honey comb, I'll spread, you stroke.
Melody erratic,
Steady soothing static.

Remember the tracks that i left on your back? Let's play that track and smile and relax.

Counting down/Safe and sound.

Day 275.
I spent it immersed in complete bliss.

He held my head under-in all the beauty and splendor of love-and we swam towards the cotton candy clouds and The Dream.

The Dream..if only you knew. The most magnificent dream in the world. Where eyes meet on soft surfaces and tongues slide side by side and toes keep curled. Whenever, always, forever.

With 274 until The Dream becomes real. I am filled with him and the perfect comfort he pours into my heart.

We're almost there, my love.

A sirens death.

Glistening
In moonlight; in ocean's lips; in limbo.
Waiting.
Mistaken if you think she's been consumed.
Not yet.
Wait.
She's purple skin- drinking in velvet through her pores.
Burning with every breaking gulp.
Pebbles pin her pretty toes to the mud.
Pull you under maybe.
But she's waiting.
Rabies in her eyes (red sirens screeching silent)
She's a mouthful of waves.
Salt stealing saliva.
She's a mute calling.

Oh, I think I'm falling.
My palm to her frozen throat.
She's laying like an angel.
Wavering.
With green tits and feathered lips.
With only the nectar I pour into her.
Darting eyes.
Seashells breaking, turning red.
Under her back like a bloody bed.
Comely mermaid.
Gnawing sea creatures have left tears.

But she's fought.
She has poured concrete into many hearts.
Heaviness not yet set-
Prayed upon and captured.
Clipped and skinned and chained and drained.
Still too alive.
Still squirming in her bones.
Still sanding herself down.

Oh, my teeth..just to crack a rib.
Release the remains of a melty summer day.
All in her marrow-
Molten misery.
Her blue hairs curl around my finger.
One last burst of glitter was left within her.

Her- I lifted from the water.
Her- I held her and I caught her.
Her- I threw up to the moon.
Her- She's blooming in the gloom.

Excerpt

In my damp basement I would dance for boys. I would sit them down on my couch and start humming to my own music. My hips would sway for the boy whom I had chosen this time: captain of the football team, student body president, jazz band member. My humming would turn to panting as I twirled and made delicate leaps-my hot feet leaving marks on the cold floor. I would pick up the pieces of gauzy fabric I had scattered everywhere and cover my dirt brown eyes. Suddenly my world would have a green filter. Or purple. Or red. I kept myself small for my spectators; I needed to teach that they could be larger, stronger, and less helpless. I needed a role to play. My ribs protruded in such a way that it was safe to assume that I had consumed a xylophone. My cheeks had dissolved and my bones became so pronounced that I looked dangerously sharp at first, then ridiculously breakable at further inspection. So I’d undress and dance and sweat and pant, and when it was all over I’d cry. I would collapse onto the frostbitten floor, kneeling while the boy would scramble for his things then either stand by the door for a second hesitantly or give my head a quick kiss and drift out silently. They never said a word to anyone. I was their secret and they were all carrying mine.


One had stood in the doorway before leaving and whispered, "what a terrible angel you are. He was the only one who gave me his tears.