she kisses me in her parents bedroom and says
SOLILOQUIZE THIS, MOTHERFUCKER,
like a threat, like a promise,
like she’s saying, TURN THIS INTO POETRY AND I’LL KILL YOU
or maybe TURN THIS INTO POETRY AND I’LL LOVE YOU EVEN MORE.
i can never tell what she means when she kisses me like that.
she says THE STRETCH MARKS ON YOUR INNER THIGHS LOOK LIKE THE SURFACE OF MARS
I say, «baby, i’ve got no idea what that means.»
she says
IT MEANS WE’RE THE UNIVERSE LOOKING DOWN AT ITSELF
and
I LIKE YOU EVEN MORE WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK AND UNSATISFIED
and
IF YOU WANT TO BE EUROPA I’LL BE JUPITER AND YOU CAN JUST STAY IN MY ORBIT FOREVER.
i say «tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more»
and she tells me STOP QUOTING OTHER POETS WHEN YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME
and i say «i’ve never been more than quotes from other poets, if you didn’t want that, why are you still kissing me?»
and she says
WHY DO YOU ALWAYS EXPECT ME TO KNOW THE ANSWERS TO YOUR PROBLEMS?
we kiss in her parents bedroom and she says
WHAT DO YOU WANT, BABY?
and i say «i want you to kill me in the middle of sex so i can die feeling good.»
for a second, she’s quiet, and then she says WHAT? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
and i try to say i’ve never know love without violence
or maybe i’m scared of dying scared
or maybe when they told me that abraham’s love for isaac was the reason for the sacrifice, i didnt understand that he was being asked to kill in spite of that love, not for it.
and instead i say «nothing i say means anything. that’s why i’m a poet.»
we sit outside while i smoke and i say
«i watched hacksaw ridge yesterday, and it was the craziest thing, because i thought they were exaggerating the story, but it turns out it was actually even weirder.»
and she says I WISH YOU TALKED ABOUT YOURSELF MORE.
and it sounds too real, so i pretend i dont hear it.
we are kissing in her parents bedroom
when i grab a handful of fat, blood-full bedbugs and say «‘how long will you refuse to humble yourself before me? let my people go, so that they may worship me’.»
and she says I WISH YOU TALKED ABOUT YOURSELF MORE
and i say
«i am talking about myself»
we are standing at the bus stop waiting for the bus to come and she says
MY DAD ALWAYS TOLD ME TO NEVER TRUST AN ADDICT
and i ask «do you really want me to write your dialogue in all capitals even though no one can see it?»
and she says I NEVER ASKED YOU TO DO THAT.
we eat dinner together and she says I LIKE WHEN YOU DRINK AND DON’T TAKE YOUR MEDICINE AND ACT LIKE A FUCKING CRAZY PERSON
and i say «no, you don’t, i’m a bad acid trip dressed like a boyfriend.»
and she says WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IT WAS GOING TO START RAINING?
and i say «i thought it’d be more romantic
if we didnt have an umbrella.»
we sit like distant planets and she says STOP QUOTING OTHER POETS WHEN YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME
and i say «i dont know how»
and she says STOP USING MY NAME TO TALK TO YOURSELF
and then, finally quiet, i dont like it when you use me to justify your own self hatred. stop putting mean words in my mouth.
and i say, «i am talking about myself.»
and she says, baby, I know —
that’s the problem.
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The borderlined life excerpt three from my poetry book:
“I don’t want to fight you, I don’t want you to be hurt. This isn’t me whose talking right now, and it’s not you that’s in front of me. There is a flame inside me, it’s been growing for a while, when I say I hate you, I really mean I hate myself.”
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don't look at my teeth, don't look at my claws,
don't look at the blood trailing behind.
just look at my fur, notice my eyes
I won't be a beast when no ones around.
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I don’t enjoy things like how I’m supposed to. If I’m not insane about it, or obsessed or devastated or angry. I don’t care about it enough. I don’t love it.
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