hello.-

my name is whatever and my girlfriend dumped me and i'm SO sad & she ripped apart my soul & i'm so tortured & whatnot & i write a lot of bleeding-heart 'love-me-harder' poetry now & i drink my coffee extra black and i talk all gangsta in public & wear a lot of eyeliner so when i cry i get permanent smoky vertical lines from my crows' feet to the corners of my lips, which come together at a straight line that i could stretch into a smile if i so desired or loop around my neck & dangle there when i should be double-dutching or triple-exxing or clutching your name in my fist hard enough to bleach my knuckles & getting your olive skin tones stuck underneath my fingernails // i want to squeeze until you pop // but who's the balloon here, anyway? i gotta tie this down / i gotta get this up before some kid lets go & i float slowly up towards the stratosphere & forget that there's anything better / wallowing is sex for depressives / i'd be up there bobbing back & forth & dragging half-curled ribbon underneath me like a security blanket /

comere
i wanna tell you all about this feeling you left in my stomach
it sounds like dragging your front teeth hard over the pad of your thumb
it tastes like unsalted butter and it curbs hunger about as well as two cherios
& you fill me with cinnamon to bake until golden-brown, supposedly but
someone forgot to set the timer & now there's smoke everywhere & some alarm is sounding and everything i could say is so far overdone :::
so far overdone
this feeling of attempted quilting & constant trying to piece it all back together & then line it so it's warm when all that's really left to work with is a chickenwire frame holding a half-beating heart.

sincerely,
brynne.

06/17/2003

Posted on 06/18/2003
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