it was grasping at the air when your throat closes love.
drive down and back in a snowstorm panic,
only to ***** at the sight of blood and stool,
so just say yes kind of closeness.
i always struggled with the difference between
need and want.
maybe I just wanted to be needed.
skeletons didn't hide in closets in our house.
they were out in the open for me to bathe and feed
and for the skeletons to grab my *** and call me cute,
and ***** me when they wanted,
and it was fine and we were
Happy.
what is the difference between a hospital bed and a couch?
there is no punchline.
i'm bad at jokes.
what's the difference between a joke and playing house?
i'm bad at jokes.
so when something hit the floor a little too hard
i simply walked away until it was picked up again
when i returned.
so when you sat in a house filled with smoke
i would try to pull you to safety until
the weight of you made my arms numb.
so when you told me you didn't know how to cry
i would kiss you just a little too hard to see if you'd bleed
and you learned that was how to kiss me back.
i'd pretend it didn't hurt, then come back with
Do you want a time out?
Don't talk back to your mother now
(unless its in bed, and you really want to try it,
and its always been a dream of yours, and you won't feel whole again until I remind you that you are, and you haven't been able to feel like this in years, and pretty please?)
(i'd say never, until i said,
fine
just once.
i didn't hate it
i guess).
giving became the only way to strengthen your sinews
my body was somewhere between the size of housewife and pornstar,
adjusting as needed to fill in any crack in the wall
left by an aimless controller or fist,
the fatty tissue to replace anything your aching body lost
and was trying to find in the empty space you left
between rage and apathy.
i was choking on hospital food
and grabbed for something so i could breathe.
what's the difference between loving and dying?
i'm bad at jokes.
