Dusky
Succubus
Like a Skyscraper
when i was nine years old i
wanted to be everything and
i was afraid of the dark and
of getting lost. ten years
later, little has changed.
when You
speak, every word
is a step to the guillotine.
clockhands spin three quarter time
and the free verse poet begins to rhyme
these things do not permeate my thoughts, nor
can i explain myself to You. i only know that i have died
many times over since late august, and that another girl grows
in the dark and ugly womb of my heart. she is not me, and i am not me.
we are a doll subject to the evils of innocence, curiously torn apart so a child
may find i am hollow. i was magnificent, do You understand? and never once did i
write poems scattered and unhinged. scrape me out, pour into me. it is just too late to be
whole without a core full of You, when i am just an origami girl. build me up, and tear me down…