my loneliness is an orchard of rosary beads, a little girl dressed all in white. the beast of her silence sleeps in my closet. she keeps cutting off my hair.
my loneliness cannot keep her hands to herself- she wants and wants and wants. i have loved her sparrow filled mouth; the way she follows me barefoot around the house / turning off all the lights
i find her in the most unexpected places.
she calls in the early morning hours pretending to be my mother;
she repeats the word "die" / seven times before the line goes dead
she has wallpapered my room in envy- her eyes are charcoal blue / the sound of the sea crashing / in the dark
she can not even dress herself.
i leave her alone for days,
a tiny heaving creature
wrapped up in my sheets.
all she does is weep / in public restrooms / at parties / at the softest snub
her heart is a phantom of shoplifted fears:
paralyzed from the waist down, the death of her parents, the inability to leave- they're all mine.
i am an ocean of grief.
i want everything.
to love without a noose / to be unafraid of my own body / to prison the way / you say my name
to escape- lord knows how i love to escape. how this city sleeps far too much / and never asks me to stay
when my loneliness dreams, she finds a temple floating in the middle of a lake. she is a god with no hands in a room filled with strangers. in my sleep, the only word i know is "yes", and i am always running away.
