The body memories are back, and I’m scared for you to know.

What will you think of me
When it’s two
In the morning
And I can’t sleep
From the memories.
When I start
To panic and shake
And my mind will
I might not know who you are.
I might push you away.
Or I might desperately need you
To fuck me, to make me forget.
Will you run?
Or will you wake up and hold me?
Will you take your time kissing
My body to remind
Me who is actually touching me.
Remind me that I’m safe with you.
And after you make me quiver
Under your tongue
I’ll look at you
Like you have saved me.
And I’ll swear your touch
Was the antidote
The whole God damned time.
And, Why did you take so
Long to love me?
Will you run?
If I show you my demons?
Could you trust me enough with yours?


My trouble maker

I spend my days
Searching for
Inside holy texts
Searching for something
That might convince you to
Make your way back to me.
But God never spoke
Of us in that kind of way.
And, I just don’t see the love in that.

You could say I’m waiting for you
To make your move,
But I guess no move, is a move
If you look at it in the light.

But don’t you dare tell me you can’t remember
How we laughed all night,
Having marathons, and talking about our addictions
Like we could see a future inside this moment of weakness
How you knew all my secrets,
How you were my secret
How you whispered to me
And you always knew how to talk
Me into my biggest sins
Then disappeared while I faced
The consequences

I wish it was enough of an excuse
To say
That you taste like someone I once
Knew, but no longer can
Remember his name.
You were my everything.
Yet, you were never mine to have.
Thanks for the lessons
My little trouble maker.

Page 213


Sunday dinners
Mr. Boran’s eyes never left me
He did not
Enhance my beauty.
He was on his knees.
Damp kisses
Growing passion.
His lips moved up.
I rose quickly.
Glazed with desire I wanted
Him at my command.
Remnants of his love. Kisses.
I felt my womanhood.
Horrid; the future
Of my own unhappiness.
Mr. B
Distanced himself from me
I caught him
And his eyes… Angry,
That he could not make it for dinner.

A familiar sin

I get up and wipe the dirt off my knees.
Just another reminder of who I’ll always be.
This Florida wind is giving my body chills
Goosebumps on my skin
A familiar sin.
And your fingers used to do the same to me
A few too many times
At least in your opinion.
But I miss the rush you gave me.
I miss wiping away your taste from my mouth
And cleaning the dirt out of
Recurring wounds.
When I look at you I just see a
Reflection of my own broken past.

But you’re just a boy who has a sexy grin; hiding crater sized wounds beyond your green eyes.

Just like I am…

Denny’s parking lot Part two

Do you remember when we
Used to stop in the Denny’s parking lot
After we bought our fix?
At first I would just roll the 20 up for you
Until you taught me how to roll it on my
Phone in a bill with a bic
It used to only take two
That didn’t last very long
When you left for two weeks I still
Needed help to crush them
That night we fought on the phone
I thought I would never see you again
I hoped I would never see you again
I got one to get you off my mind
But even getting high wasn’t a good enough distraction
And now I have someone else I’m trying to forget.

Denny’s parking lot Part one

That night, we had another party. We all hopped into the car to meet
We were in charge of getting all the favors
We sat in a Denny’s parking lot.
We waited, we talked.
Bumps for the drive, we were on the road
But it wasn’t till 10:30 when we got home.

I used to be afraid to try it
Until the night you lined it up on my body
And it looked so pretty against my skin
So I took my first line and I was up all night with you, with them.

Then we drove to Denver
But the acid made us forget.
I peed outside the car.
We forgot about the coke.

When we left Denver we did lines in the car so we
Wouldn’t pass out.

In Daytona we met a bum named Jeff.
Jeff liked heroine, but he could get us our fix too..
Remember waiting by the bathrooms waiting,
Listening to the waves.
Waiting to be brave.
For our sweet white courage.

When we are older we will miss
Being high I. The back of
Our shitty van
In some city
We don’t call home.