What will life look like 2 years from now?
Can I hear the train whistle between the brush of trees?
The howling of coyotes and roars of mountain lions,
Maybe I’ll be cruising down the golden coast.
I’m hungry for it.
Dry toast and black coffee from a waitress named Diane
It’s not just surviving anymore
I’ll feel at home once the ocean breeze hits my face,
Once it takes my hair between its salty grasp.
I’ll feel whole
Unrecognizable
Unknown.
On my own
No one to please
Just me and a couple sand fleas.
tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to deal with losing you.
Lick the wound till it’s raw.
So I’ll nod until my neck snaps
Worn down to paper thin skin
And measly shrugs
Traded my glare for a complacent grin
Plastic tea cups for ceramic mugs
Stolen glances for a rehearsed laugh
Soft ice cream for thigh gaps
It seems easier now,
To starve than swallow.
My tongue is raw,
Jagged teeth dug into the muscle
Excuses never slip.
Sunk to the bottom.
“Fallen angel,” they cry,
Drunk sailors watch, aghast,
Hopeless, lifeless, she lie.
They dredge her up,
Callin’ her pale hue tragic,
They study her vacant eyes,
A morose sight, bloated to the surface,
On days of somber skies,
They think of her.
A lonely girl, too young to die.
my sweet summer glow burned for a star that was too bright for me