I Would Leave Me If I Could: A Collection of Poetry(6)
There was a man,
Standing on my mattress with a shovel Lifting chunks out of it angrily.
He wiped his brow and his sweat Collected in the divots of my blanket And made a little pond.
A scum pond,
With talking frogs and lily pads.
The pond grew deeper as the man dug harder and sweated.
I was drowning.
A goldfish swam up my throat and flopped around in my mouth.
I clenched my jaw and tossed and turned in the scum pond.
White and gray algae blinding me, And filling my nose with fuzzy mold.
I tried to scream and retrieve the fish from the back of my mouth.
I was choking.
I tried to kick, but the man was standing on my legs.
His weight was too much to bear And I feared that shovel would dismount onto my head And split my skull if I provoked him any more.
I tried to yank the fish out again but it struggled.
It attached its jaws to the opening of my throat and it would not budge.
I yanked.
And I screamed.
And my mother came rushing into the room, tripping over her feet.
I was trying to rip out my tongue.
She fixed my blankets.
She stroked my hair that stuck to me like cotton candy dissolving in water.
I wanted to cry but feared I’d fill the pond again.
When my fever broke, I realized the man and the fish were all a dream, And so was she.
LIKELY AS THE RAIN
I’ve always liked it when it’s sunny and warm.
You like it cold
’cause you’re from the north.
Now I’m sitting by a window watching rain fall down …in California.
Looks like you always seem to get what you want.
Even when it goes against the natural odds.
’Cause it’s 7 in the morning and my bathroom’s flooding hard…
I never knew
what made you do what you do.
Tuck me into bed
and then you sneak off to be somewhere with another who’s more like your mother and doesn’t expect as much of you.
An anomaly.
I’m not like you and you’re not like me, or how we used to be.
You know what they say, the all-consuming rage and unbearable shame, of you losing me,
was as likely as the rain.
WATERMELON
He loves to bring me watermelon.
Spits in my mouth, seeds.
To grow inside my stomach like A thing that begs to feed I lick his lips from watermelon, Spread across my cheeks.
And that pink sugar Chelsea smile Is hiding underneath.
Now I devour watermelon, Bouncing on his knee.
I rock my body back and forth, So he can feel the heat.
I’m dripping like a watermelon, Soaking through my seat.
I bite my lip and suckle on The words between my teeth.
And oh the taste of watermelon, Subtle but it’s sweet.
I kneel down on the wooden floor And beg him to proceed.
He fills my mouth with watermelon.
No one hears me scream.
To overdose on sugar is more Painful than it seems.
My tummy hurts from watermelon.
He can be so mean.
But smiles like a gentleman And licks my body clean.
And when there is no watermelon, Only vicious weeds,
He puts his fingers in his mouth To taste the way I bleed.
Now all I crave is watermelon, Every time I leave.
BLUBBER
You went and caught a whale for me Seven hundred days at sea You cut him up in chunks real neat
Turned him into kerosene You said it was a present You told me to close my eyes You tied me to a metal chair And opened up my thighs.
You rubbed me down in Vaseline and pressed your body up
against
me
You soaked me down in gasoline Lit me up
And then discarded me.
You said you’d always love me from my
head
to my
toes
And then
All at once you loved me to a little death.
PUSSY
Beautifully folded salmon sweater Cashmere sleeves and slouching turtleneck I want to slide inside and feel the hairs on my arms stand on end
Silver threads and white cotton spilling from the seams Japanese pink ginger toffee and coffee taffy Velveteen ear of a baby deer Wrap around me like a ball python swallow me whole
like a blind baby mouse cinnamon in the swings sour peach candy rings Sweet surprise
She’s open wide.
I follow like a moth to the bulb to fry.
THE MIRROR
I’m pulling
funny faces
in the mirror,
wiping down
the glass
so I see clearer.
I’m trying
to feel safe
inside.
My body
doesn’t feel
like mine.
I look at who I am.
I think I fear her.
BAD DAY: 1
I’m sorry
I’m having another bad day.
My bones are creaking And my eyes leak
Like a broken faucet.
My mind is a bullet train And I can’t stop it.
I’m stuck in the middle of an avalanche and I’m not moving.