Mommy.

Slice right here, cut right there;
Mommy's got all the right bandages.
Blood drips, like tiny ballerinas
Dancing their way down that pretty silver drain.

Your face is a mess, and you look like shit.
You're much too fat, changes your clothes.

I slit open my thighs as I ponder what you know;
Am I pretty enough for you yet?

Scrape that makeup with half-bitten nails.
As mascara writes "disgrace" on wet cheeks.
Not nearly good enough, not even close.
Close, close comes that sharp friend no one knows.

Your makeup is running and your chins are showing.
Your hair is flipping out, go straighten that mess.

I paint my nails in the blood on my chest.
While he sits and cries beside me, knowing.

I cake my face in the blood you make me spill.
Pretty little war paints; puckering red lips.
Bright eyes of mine watch the skin curl back on my wrists.
Telling the fatal cuts of how I love my mother so.

You were good enough, don't go yet.
I loved you so, pretty little girl.

Blood dots the I's on her goodbye to the world.
Am I pretty enough for you yet?

You Taught Me Words

Please just remember, you taught me words.
How a phrase can become the most beautiful of flowers,
And words can tear at the heart strings like the tug of a newborn.
You made me make others feel me, feel you; feel life.

You taught me how to speak emotion,
Unlike how I used to fumble upon words with a shaking voice.
I simply spoke how I felt, making you uncomfortable and older,
Touching your heart with the tip of my finger, to feel the littlest bit.

I taught you nothing and force fed you emotion.
Emotion you didn't want, emotion that was wrong; emotion titled criminal.
I tugged at your hands and your shirt and anything to make you stay,
And God knows I watched you leave as my heart crawled to my sleeve.

You taught me everything I didn't know.
You taught me words, emotion, love, hate, poetry.
You taught me to feel Spring as if it were your hugs once more.
You taught me how it feels when the best part of you leaves.

This Weekend

Have you not loved me this long weekend?
Though you've touched such things as my love for you.
The tender kisses felt from such a friend
Do not speak love with words held to be true.
But you repeated love over and over again,
And held my heart in your rough, gorgeous lips.
Your eyes told stories of how you had been,
As how you'd changed ran paths along my hips.
Now, here I lie, feeling those paths still there;
Feeling how my lips tingle missing yours.
Placing your face into my vacant stare.
Remembering the way your soft skin lures.
You loved me so long, so honest, so true.
Proved to me by the you that is not you.

extraction.

Smokey breath tantalizing its way down my throat,

Filling my lungs; fingering my heart.

You filling me and extracting my heart

As you held me between our hands

caressing my thumb and what you call a beautiful face-

You love me, your eyes; I extract yours, too...

In each other's hands,

Your sweat coating my quivering lips.

And I watched you watch me leave.

My One Winged Angel

My boyfriend wrote this poem for me, and I thought others should see it.

She's a beautiful one winged angel
she watches over his heart because no one else cares
i doubt he'd make it through life without her
he needs her as much as she needs him
the first time they met he thought his heart would explode as he looked upon the beautiful little ray of light standing in front of him
he was the happiest he had ever been in his life being with that beautiful one winged angel he had found
they never wanted it to end but fate had decided to keep them apart for awhile
he hated not being able to see her but he's still holding on to his beautiful one winged angel

mommy dearest.

i don't want you at all she says

but her buries himself deep inside her, not even fucking wet

because she lets him, because she loves him, because she wants him happy

but he can't feel one damn thing

i don't want you at all she says

rubbing the hint of belly she has with that damn mistake

a damn mistake, one fucking condom break, just cause he wanted to feel

and she can't say no

i don't want you at all he says

and he punches her in the stomach, screaming at them both

he doesn't want her or that fucking pleasure child, he didn't even enjoy her enough

but she can't feel one damn thing

i don't want you at all she says

looking at his beautiful bastard child from one mistake of a night

cooing in her arms and loving her sad excuse of a mother, a child herself

and that baby girl can feel everything

I Waited

Mind playing with thoughts of strength

The suitcase beneath me scratching gravel

Blue lace panties slightly hang out

I search for that blue in the shadow

Where’s that shadow you promised me

Where’s the sound of tires on gravel

Where’s your laugh and crooked smile

Where’s the last warm embrace

The sky rumbles, drops water on my shoulder

Daddy yells out the window we’ve gotta go

I pull my seat and throw it in the trunk

The hinge clicks and I hold my quiet sobs

I make excuses and she holds me like you should

Choking out, “maybe he got busy” and she hushes me

My head falling on her shoulder and wetting her hair

Mind playing with thoughts of strength; I waited