1. you can keep your timid dreams.
mediocre with fear.
tremble becomes a walk, a gait.
gate yourself safely
but do not ask me to stay.
2. I am wild as spring.
Fire that makes glass
can melt it also.
Bridges can be cages too.
Let them all burn
with old mirrors
and door knobs.
You ever notice
how they call it a rope
burn? How binding rips
into simple flesh and divorces
3. I have set fire to every photograph of every lover.
maybe that is too far.
Temporary as tampon, sterile in their regard,
This is how I cut the stain of you;
rusted, unsightly fabric.
stitched the hole left in my sheets,
in my panties,
until only a clean seam, or scar
as they are also called,
reminds me that something happened there
When I was reminded to be humble.
When I was taught to be polite.
When I was raised to be a Christian, all forgiveness and long-suffering.
When I was beaten into being a good girl.
The best girl.
a girl that cuts her tongue from her mouth
and folds it into a quiet bouquet of blood.
4. I was married once. I said “I do”
and meant it. Left my skeleton
at the altar and shape shifted
into a beautiful apology.
One year after the wedding, to the day,
my gall bladder exploded inside my body.
My gut was trying to form new bones
from the waste.
What a tragic way to love
my fear more than myself.
I have not done it since.
Loved. Or should we call it
suicide, the way I buried my own name
in an unmarked grave
in some winter
where the ground will not yield
for anything less than a hurricane’s
5. This is where I live, I say.
This is my name, I say.
These are the bones that belong to me.
Some of them