I wear my heart on my wrist-
not on my sleeve
so that way when you go to take it,
you will take my rip-cord too
though if you break it I will fall apart.

I’ve replaced my flesh with the lyrics of your favorite song
so that you won’t be afraid to see it.
but bear in mind that I don’t always know the tune.

Please,
be soft when you touch me
because though my complexion isn't porcelain-
I sometimes feel like I’m ready to shatter.

And remember how I loved you.
wore my heart on my wrist-
ready to slit it and bleed for you.

Held myself together with the super glue of ‘I Do’
for you.

And remember how you left.
No sweat
sweeter than sugar we kissed.
You went to work and never came back.

Found love much better in a lady who posed pin up,
worshiped rosie
and flaunted fancy garters.

I guess my mother was right.
Milk men aren’t the best choices for husbands,
and this is our last goodbye
our son and I
will take no pity to die
though he never got to take his first breath of air.
but you pulled the rip-cord.

Dear Police
You will find him at 282 Ruth street
sippin gin and swearin like a sailor-
but he was my man.
Found love much better in a woman who posed pin up
and worshiped rosie
though his regular feminist wife would’ve done just fine-
but he wanted a woman who flaunted fancy garters
and wore lipstick way too red.

I hope he doesn’t pull another rip cord
now that this one’s dead.