Monday, March 29, 2010

its about tapeing a plastic bag over your head, and waiting for jesus

in five years i want to move to sydney, arkensas, or atlantas and start a family, name my children after odd numbers and teach them russian nursery rhymes, and the art of manipulating the ones you love.
in five years i want to marry you, but i dont know if you like odd numbers, or even if you like me all that much. maybe you'd like me if i tell you that i'm a mermaid, but i'm not and you can always tell when i am lying. in five years i want to be seventeen, but wishes dont work like that. i tried. in five years i want to be on a plane, and i want the plane to crash and i want everyone to be okay execpt for you. but if you were a mermaid you would be okay i suppose. you could just swim away.
in five years i want to be out of this bed, in five years i want to be crowned king of all lower case letters, in five years i want to say "your the best thing that has ever happened to me", and mean it.
in five years i hope to either be a writter or dead. but i shouldnt get my hopes up.

Friday, March 5, 2010

once more, with feeling

I wanted to give up sex for lent, but somehow i find myself letting you spread my legs and whisper holy nothings into my sinful ears.
in my half-starved mind i imagine a danglinggolden cross about your neck that burns prayers into my collar bone, oh godoh god oh god oh godohgodohpleasein the morning i hide your mother's bible and try to tell you about renewal and purity and rebirth.

you just ask me if i've remembered to take my birth-control pills.i wanted to go without eating for forty days, but you take one look at my pale, nakedlegs and say, "honestly, if they wereany skinnier i would be grossed out."

here i am swallowing the world whole,all of its glory and chocolate rabbits and virgin mary statues and dirtied snow and azealea bushes. there is no confession booth left to save my soul except poetry, and as far as i know it cannot keep me from hell.
i ask you what the holy week is, and what each day signifies, but you are unsure.

i spend ash wednesday celebratingbeing alive, and wake up thursdaythinking maybe i've gotten it all wrong.

-i'm not giving up any one thing for lent.i'm just giving up.