Stuck everywhere are secrets you've heard before.

Sometimes the things i have to say
don't escape past the tips of my teeth
because the rigid parts of me
are afraid to tie knots
that can only be
undone
with a knife.

We;
the generation
that forgot the meaning of memorable,
so keen on trade
as a means to claim
or apply value,
that this,
only this,
is seldom enough.

I used to think that pain was the most motivational thing i could feel,
but as I was bound to be taught,
told in blessings by
teachers
i was trying to
train,
it's either a lesson in love
or a lesson in release.

I swear
my guts
darken
dad

as I am in
your spot
looking
at the sea-

mother
insisted
again
on heels

     but has changed
     in other ways-

you must’ve walked
to get to those places
you stood
but it’s the standing
I recall

and the quiet-

the length
of my life
is abnormal

     but goes
     undiscovered

i.

two boys
skipped school
to fight
in a field.

we who stayed
took sides.

I somehow became a leader

      which mattered only
when the boys
returned.

their original quarrel
ended
in that field
     where a scarecrow

interested
both-

ii.

     boys
whose names
imprison me.

I have not thought in so long
That spiders are walking on me

In a whisper
Or in a scream
Do not wake me
From the dream
I'm in

The bus is leaving
The clouds are breaking up

Sunlight collects beneath
The old armchair
Dust on my skin
I sit as a statue
My ribs are iron
My eyes cast down
In sorrow or shame

The clock strikes
and a crack appears

Vines grow through
The window and they
Spread silently along the floorboards
Each leaf reflecting in the golden sunlight
Until
Around my ankles they tighten
and around the old chair legs

Out of my mouth they grow
Out of my throat and out of my eyes
That are cast down in sorrow or shame

i acted cool.
You know, like how they do it on TV.

27 floors up,
your door was unlocked.

i didn't take my shoes off,
that way you could see the bad *** i really am,
deep down.

You know, you told me you loved me.
That's why I came.
i believed you.

Oh, how naive of you, i think back now.

I sat on your beat-down chair,
while you sprawled out on the floor-level couch.

I was terrified,
but the kids on TV are never scared.

He said he loved you.
No one else has ever felt that way before.
He loves you, kid.
You can do it.

Come cuddle on the couch?
Meh, maybe if i feel like it later.

Play. It. Cool.

i slide unto the foot of your ***-stained sofa.
i can feel your feet shaking behind my back,
your toes teasing my sides,
poking in and out between my ribs.

i know what you want,
and i want it too.

Keep. It. Cool. Kid. Keep it Cool.

i feel my hands slip out of your tight grasp,
my fingers inching their way up your leg,
following the dips of your pelvic bone.

What is happening?

The taste of you is so foreign to me.
i've never known the sweetness of another human being.

Let's go to your room?

Kid, it's just like on TV.

Okay, yeah, i guess if you really want to.

i didn't want to take my clothes off.

The world was spinning,
i was seeing and feeling things i didn't know to exist.

What is happening?

i love you.
i love you, i love you.

it's all over,
i leave.
27 floors of shame.

not only don't you love me,

you don't talk to me.

i write poems for fun.
help me.

i write poems for fun during lunch,
while all the other kids live their adolescent lives.

i write poems for fun on weekends,
while others are experimenting with drugs and alcohol at awesome house parties.

i write poems for fun alone,
while everyone else explores each other's bodies.

i write poems for fun. i cut myself for fun,
while all you other ******* actually have fun.

i write poems for fun.
help me.

The world around me is silent.
I can see the leaves floating,
in mercy of the crisp wind.
I see the children playing,
too young to know the pain that
drips from the intentional wounds in my flesh.
I see those who were once my friends,
holding hands and kissing the one's they love.
All this life goes on around me,
still I hear nothing.
Nothing but the sound of my old self screaming;
locked away in that special place inside of me,
to which I've seemed to have lost the key.

i had a thought.
i ran out of my room,
down the hallway,
and into the bathroom.

i wriggled out of my worn down, tie dye shirt.
hopping up and down as i pull off my
high-waisted jeans, pulling my pant leg with my foot as i
trample the dark denim to the ground.

i stand there naked, in front of the
harsh, full length mirror.
combing my fingers through my natural, wavy hair.
i contort my face in disgust, cocking
my head slightly to the side.

i close my eyes, and take one deep breath in.
when i open my eyes,
the reflection staring back at me is a thin, natural
beauty.

Her smooth ivory skin glows in the
silvery reflective glass.
Her stomach is flat and toned.
Her ******* lay on Her chest in perfect
proportion to the rest of her petite frame.

i run my fingers down the sides of my body.
my palms trailing along, dipping and
rising with the mounds beneath my skin.

i close my eyes and open them again,
this time taking my reflection for
what it really is.

i am fat.
my skin is pink and spotted with freckles the
colour of blood.

my stomach hangs low, covering the part
a man should see when i'm naked.

my ******* are big.
but not in the way you'd like them to be.
they lay there, sort of lop-sided.
hanging just above my ribs. Another place for
fat to take over.

the cuts on my thighs are hardly noticable
next to

all

that

fat

i can see tears in the eyes of the reflection staring back at me,
but i am numb.

i thought correctly. i am
fat. i am ugly.
Nobody in their right mind would want to
love me.