my exterior is tough
weathered
marked by battle scars
as is the heart which beats within my chest
but my bones
are those of the robin
who arrives to signal spring
hollow
airy
easily crushed under foot
you broke my wish bone
with your dishonesty
and now I cannot fly
what good is a bird
who is grounded
No matter how much you wanted to be
the girl with the prom date
you were the girl fucking anonymous guys
in the backseat of cars
Always searching for love
in men who would never love you back
Trying to prove your worth
never enough
or always too much
so you settled for the fucking instead of the dating
until the lines of disappointment and rejection
settled in your face
etched so deeply
they stole your smile away
Foolish girl
my words mean nothing
in a world filled with
tits pussy ass
they are lost
among the white noise of the internet
a filtered photoshopped existence
of perfection
in spike heels
all signs of womanhood
shaved covered concealed
the things we resort to
when in need of quick cash flow for bankrupt egos
constructed concepts
no longer flesh and bone
but merely one dimensional fodder
for spank banks
I am the realness
which makes your dick go limp
as I am unable to be
something I am not
I will myself not to think
of your lips on mine
my head upon your shoulder
because you don’t want me
so I tell myself I don’t want you
but my heart doesn’t deal in realities
it likes to imagine what might be
while my head is harsh
it berates me
tells me how unworthy I am
flogs my self-esteem mercilessly
until my heart seems no longer capable
of producing any joy
real or imagined
I’M NOT STUPID
I scream at the mirror
who would ever love
this face
this body
I knew I never stood a chance
I knew you lied
when you called me beautiful
but my heart believed it for a moment
and it was nice
Once again
I allowed my heart
to get weighed down with feeling
always knowing in my head
that nothing good could come of it
and it seems my head was right
so my heart turns in on itself
crumpling like a sheet of paper
to discard as so much waste
there will be no recycling
as it’s past the point of usefulness
coffee stains
too many notes scribbled upon it
smears and smudges
where a hand blurred wet ink
toss it in the burn bin
strike the match
let it be potash
you’ve taken residence in my heart
though I doubt it’s what you intended
(or I imagined)
and it happened as easily as you walking in and sitting down
filling up the space
with all you are
they always love someone else
regardless of how much you love them
their heart belongs to another
so either you give your love freely
or not at all
knowing it will never be returned
all the while
adding layers to your outer shell
until you’re a papier-mache person
trying to protect what lies within
with mere paste and newsprint
torn from the social pages
announcing engagements
weddings
anniversaries
but your picture won’t be there
because your black and white world
lies within the obits
as your heart dies a little each day
from lack of reciprocity
I do your laundry
because it makes me feel close to you
The labors of your day embedded
in the fibers
I pull your shirt from the dryer
And hold it to my nose and breathe you in
It’s all there
your dedication
your off-kilter smile
your quiet reassurance
So I smile as I fold it and place it in the basket
just as you encircle my waist with your arms
and kiss the back of my neck
giving me all the thanks I need
Some days
the world
and everything in it is too much
the way the tag in my shirt scrapes against my neck
and I don’t like these stupid buttons on my shirt
and the bump in my sock rubs against my toe
and sights and sounds and colors bombard me
so I scream and lash out because I can’t take it anymore
but all the people around me in this Target see is a tantrum
and they think maybe I’m just an overindulged kid who didn’t get their way
and under their breath they tell my parents to “get control of me”
and that I just need “a good old spanking”
but that’s not it and they don’t know I have this thing called autism
and I’m just trying to find the place within myself
where I can go and be okay again
and this is the only way I know how to do it
because I can’t get the words out to tell you how I feel
and even if I did they wouldn’t make sense to other people’s ears
so I rock because it calms me
even though it makes everyone in the store stop and stare
and my mom and my dad and I just want you to know
that I’m different not less
and if you’d take some time to get to know me
we’re all an awful lot alike inside
we just view the world differently
*I have special people in my life whose children have been diagnosed with autism, and I admire their strength, and spirit, and stamina daily. This is for them and their children. I hope I got it right. Much love to you!*
There was one time I said “Towanda” and wrapped myself entirely in plastic wrap.
And he laughed at me. At me. Not with me. And I knew at that moment I’d picked wrong.
If you want me, you should know that story, because I am a fool, and I always will be.
When you come home from work I will meet you at the door with a drink and nothing on but an apron and a smile.
I will volunteer to pack you a lunch and leave a note in it telling you about all the things I will do to you when you get home.
I will stamp out our initials in the snow with a big heart around it and accompanying anatomically correct snow angels.
I will want to kiss you every time you walk past me in the house because lips seal deals with hearts that sometimes words can’t.
I will do a million things that either drive you nuts or make you adore me, but I will never give up until I’m absolutely forced to because I just can’t bring myself to do it.
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
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