we all fall
2003-09-19, 7:43 p.m.
ring around the rosies,
pocket full of posies,
ashes... ashes...
we all fall...
we all fall...
we. all. fall.
Down, down the slippery slope,
I am sliding again...
Uh oh, my roots are showing,
backwoods and brackish-brown...
Up, up my eyes are sliding,
thighs of creamy white,
bitten through with gunshot rails,
bitten through with broken nails,
bitten through with switchblade trails,
pale. pale. girlgirl thighs.
And I've spent my whole life
tramping around on my knees,
swallowing back the bitter black medicine
of my inferiority,
of my idle inquiries,
and self injury...
tipping back my head.
opening my mouth... up wide.
and swallowing back everything they put in.
Put it in,
Baby just. put. it. in.
I want you to hit the back of my throat
with your bullshit lies.
I want to... deepthroat. your after-sex eyes...
I want you to fuck me.
with your post-coital thighs.
And my eyes are burning
and my head is heavy
and my arms are empty
and you're gone.
and my heart's still hurting
and my hands' still shaking
and my head's still spinning
and you're gone.
and my words still flowing
and the wind's still blowing
and my cunt's still bleeding
and my eyes still leaking
and you. are gone.
You're gone and I'm left grasping this fucking tube
of cherry chapstick that you left in my car
on the corner of Dickerson and I-35.
you're gone and I'm left clutching these strands
of orange-yellow hair that you left
on my headrest on the shoulder of the road.
And there's still gravel in my tires.
And there's still gravel in my eyes.
And no matter how much sewer-water pours through them,
they still burn like the first time
you fucked me...
over.
and over again you have fucked me...
over.
and over again I have forgiven you...
Because forgivin' you is easy...
Forgivin' you is what I. do. best.
Put it in...
Baby just. put. it. in.
I want to feel your unanswered phone calls
swimmin' around in my uterus...
I want insemenation with your guilt...
I want to birth your burned letters and name them
bullshit.
Name them a brainless, painless
attempt at picture-quality passion
that you proved impossible...
because I... am a pariah...
and you are Pandora...
and, baby, I can't wait.
to get my hands in that box.
Just call me Polyhymnia,
the muse of your poetry,
unamused with your problems,
fusing words and voice to spread your secrets
to past passions...
Baby, the CIA ain't got nothin' on me.
And Russ. babygirlthing.
when are you gonna' give. it. up?
when are you gonna' let her go?
Because she is a wordsearch,
and you are just circlin'
'round and 'round her block,
blocking out sights of the boy
you've never. even. seen.
But I've been in his house.
and I've seen her plans for jailbreak
scribbled in crayon on the walls...
And me?
I'm just kickin' back,
waiting for it to all...
fall...
down...
ring around the rosies,
pocket full of posies,
ashes... ashes...
we all. fall. down.
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