October 17, 2011
By , West Tisbury, MA
My mouth duct-taped shut,
I see you taping it,
I can’t tell who you are,
but I see you taping it.
Bokeh tears,
are running down my,
running down my face.

I hear the slamming,
locking, twisting, clicking, slamming of the door knob,’
but I do not see it.
I only hear it.
and I only breathe it.


I want you to rip everything off me,
I want you to untape my mouth.
I want you to rip EVE-RY-THING off me.
I want to let every wall and barrier to my inner self dissolve,
I want you to kiss me.

I want you to touch my lips,
touch them until they’re sore, and dry, and red.
Until I feel like I know what I said,
was validated.
and reciprocated.
and danced upon.
as you ripped out the pages of my life.
And doodled on them with colored ink.

Closer and closer and closer you get,
The more my fears are yet to come,
I don’t know who you are yet.
But I want you to untape, kiss, rip, caress. the closer and closer you get.
I’ll promise not to fret.

it is
on my lips
on my tongue
on my legs

show me that you care.

Swollen dreams,
never realized.
never noted,
never real,
yet never fake,
the swelling manifests itself.
in my lips.
the lips that I’d wish you (the unidentified boy),
would French kiss and bite upon.
so I could release the toxins,

It’s not about taking my clothes,
taking them off,
it’s not about the kissing.
Because I have no desire yet.
I’m not horny.
I don’t have a sex drive.
Not even a romantic one.
It’s about letting someone PHYSICALLY take the mental toxic waste,
because I haven’t had that in forever.
I got in from dance.
I need it again.

I need you to flip me,
turn me,
stare me right in the face.
And tell me who I really am,
I need to fall back into your body,
I need your weight to pick me up,
So my legs can touch your face.
So we can be a rolling mess.

I just want ANYONE.
To lock me in a pitch black room,
Look me dead in the eye,
and say why I exist.

I want you to see,
every scar, every zit, even freckle.
The purple discoloration in my feet,
Every invisible, non-existent cut and bruise,
that I had refused to inflict upon myself.
And shape those into hope.
Shape into satisfaction.
And take away that superficial s***.
and say that I’m beautiful,
so I can stop writing these poems.

I want you to feel me up,
So I can be sure,
that I’m here for a reason.
Swap saliva,
backwash from your mouth,
pull it out like string candy,
steal the rotting flesh.
bleeding teeth I touch.
tongue I follow.
coil around,
and swallow the infection,
swish that dirt round and around.›
you can swallow the words,
that burdened me all these years,
And while I end a violent cough,
you’re immune to it because you haven’t had anything else hurt you.

I want you to be harsh.
I want you to slam me into thewall.
So I can slip down,
and so my spine can ache once more,
so I can see my world,
flip upside down again.
I wsnt you to push and pull.
so people can watch,
and I’ll prove to them,
that this keeps happening to me,
and that’s why I freak out.

When it’s over,
and when it’s done with,
I want you to put my clothes back on with care and grace.
and kiss both the eyelids that live on my face.
And I’ll smile,
because I saw every part of you,
and you saw every part of me.
and you untaped me,
and opened the door,
and I could see light again.
I wish I could find out who you’ll be,
so I could start detoxification.
And you know the rest...
but I’m not gonna say it.
As I left lipstick-infused, teethy marks,
all over you.

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