LOVE ME, I BEG OF YOU (OF MYSELF)
I
Wrap my fragile body in paper like glass
and press me against yours until I break.
Your strength doesn't come from cruelty:
it's the way you entwine yourself around me,
pull me closer closer closer
and for a second I feel wholer than ever before.
You have now reached breaking point.
This is not about sex;
this is about compassion and kindness.
When everyone else is screaming at you
my body will offer you refuge.
Your arm holds me around my waist,
your hand I place on my chest.
In your warmth i feel tiny, i feel soft, i feel safe.
The glass melts and I envelop you in that mellow tenderness
with which I like to listen to your heartbeat,
slide my fingers over your scars
gently, with ease... They remind me you are not invincible.
After you're done
please don't recycle me.
I don't want to be born again, to be used
by someone else.
II
In the cosmic jungle, thick and luscious at every angle
the lioness and her unbridled mane Haunted by the pleasure of you I’m forced to write after pleasuring me
The lustful eyes don't mean that the lioness is hungry but you sure are her piece of meat. The last time I saw your room — empty my lungs drowned in desolation. Instead of would, can, should
I am your ever wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't; Waiting for a car that never came Waiting for a choice that was never made. How trite, I know. . . I paint pictures with words and shades with the blood coming out of my nose. I've bled three times today. The lights that twinkle in my eyes whisper to me, the blade glides on the ice effortlessly, and for a moment I am unburdened — stripped of the dreams I had to give up to pursue this one. I'm not sure whether it's a nightmare or I'm being eaten alive but I know I don't have your luxury of knowing
I'll be loved after.
The lioness may be fierce but she is not fearless; sprouting life against all odds from chaos
that’s kind, warm, caring Wrapping you up in messy, messy vitality the bursting of energy, entropy — cosmic! her roaring big bang . . . I am breaking my own heart so that you can find yours.
III
It's just you and me again, old friend. I couldn't keep you away any longer. After the din has vanished, and I can't hear my friends laughing anymore, and all the poor wit I pour out has been consumed, and I cannot dig through my phone or think of anyone to replace you, I stare in the mirror and realise it was always just me and her, and the rising panic of everything she carries inside. I am too ashamed to meet my own eyes because I have let her down again. The feeling of vomit lingers in my throat and I remember how much you hurt. I am so angry I want to rip myself in half and scream until I bleed out. They taught us how to give endlessly in fear, in solitude, in desperation but they never taught us how to demand respect in return. The shop is open! Buy 1, get 3 for free. That's not a good deal— but how would we ever know one when all the women in our lives have been dealt a bad one And they never taught us how to value ourselves enough to just walk away.
Some days I ground myself with my own hands to remember I can still get up.
I carry myself in my own palms,
guarding, lovingly.
By now I have mourned you so many times sorrow sifts through me like water. What do we do now?
This time the mirror reaches out to me. At long last I see a friend I want to protect, to hold While the hatred melts away like ice cream on a hot day and the sticky muck it leaves behind can finally be washed off. I feel the need to kiss her, inhale her, become her,
because I can’t escape her anymore and she can't survive by herself anymore; So I raise my gaze and face the tired eyes that still manage to grow tears Even though this month has felt like a lifetime like the one before it, and the one before it, and the one before it, ad infinitum.
“I'm sorry I put us through this again.” “It's okay – you did your best.” All the previous survivals carried her here; I will carry her forward.
