Fat Bottom Girl Said What

“Towanda”

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.

17 Again

Meet me in the back seat of the car

with a bottle of Boone’s Farm

and a Def Leppard cassette

and wear your kissing lips

because I want to feel 17 again

and make out for hours

so I wake the next morning

with my lips raw

and a smile on my face

hoping that when my phone rings

it will be you

Eddies

My doubts

eddies around my ankles

threaten to suck me into the whirlpool

I want to believe your words

but the ocean of my insecurities is deep

and though I’m a competent swimmer

I have a deep seated fear of drowning

My nightmare watery grave

is fluid with lies leaked from lips

of those who purported to care

Lack of oxygen and tears blur my vision

but my heart still sees nothing but good in you

Take my hand and lead me to shore

before the tide comes in

there’s still time to save me

Too Much Is Never Enough

She spent half her time convincing men to love her

and half her time convincing men she wasn’t worth loving

exhausted from being too much or too little

never content with who she was

always trying to explain the tornadoes in her mind

constantly apologizing

no man ever understanding why she cowered in fear

screaming inside for just one to know her

and not run away in frustration over who she had become

because of all the other men who came before him

always trying to beat them to the leaving

because they always left

she posts a “DO NOT ENTER” sign and draws the blinds

and collapses in on herself

because it’s easier to feel nothing than to feel everything like she always has

Love Salve

“You don’t know how a heart works”

they say

“It’s resilient”

“It can heal”

once

twice

three, four, five, six times

broken

maybe beyond repair

a muscle gets strained

too much wear and tear

worn thin

like the excuses made by those we dare to love

ironic

isn’t it

the only thing to fix a broken heart

is more love

Shadow Figure

In my dream

you wake me

with your hand on my hip and

“Good morning beautiful”

whispered in my ear

but reality

is the bed cold beside me

and you far away

in a place where I exist

only in your shadows

And as much as you wish it didn’t

your heart still belongs to another

and I have learned

after many painful lessons

not to fall in love with a man

who loves someone else

no matter how easy it would be to do so

Anomalies

Although we have no place special to go

(except the bed)

I put lipstick on anyway

so you can see the trail my lips travel along your body

-the side of your neck

-the dip in your shoulder

-the skin above your 6th rib

-around your navel 

and down

(your Adonis belt a kissable constellation in the universe that is you)

and back up again

ending at your lips

me straddling you between my thick thighs

our bodies an antithesis

yours strong

where I need you to be strong

mine soft

where you need me to be soft

our pairing an anomaly to the outside world

but a comfort to each other among the tangled sheets

The Depth of Loneliness

I cried myself to sleep last night

tears pooling in the corner of my right eye

overflowing across the bridge of my nose

and into my left

and on down onto the pillow

Lonely runs deep

and burrows into my bones

as though it needs to feed on the marrow there

Hope isn’t a cure

but merely a sugar which feeds cells

already fat with melancholy

and you are far too beautiful for me

which pains me

since I still long to feel

your touch upon the small of my back

and trace my fingertips across your face

and press my lips to yours

Needle and Thread

You left me hanging by a thread

never one to tie up loose ends

you preferred to let it all unravel

and fall at your feet in a pile

Your life was a series of piles

piles of guilt

piles of shit

And god forbid you ever clean up your own messes

it takes courage to be the one to stay around

and mend things

and piece them back together

But then

you’re not me

I’m a seamstress of the broken

always believing I can repair

genetic codes reinforced by social systems

But I’m tired now

unable to reconstruct what rags I have left

so I drag it all into one pile

douse it with accelerant

strike the match

and watch it burn

pass the motherfucking marshmallows