Friday, September 27, 2013

just remember that you were the one to 
tear the phone from the wall
and now you hate me
for not calling.

Monday, September 23, 2013

we went to a museum and she tip-toed past exhibits 
like they'd suddenly wake up
if we enjoyed them too much.
i giggled into my fist, she hid her smile in my
hair.

it's funny that i might have been the first person 
to look at my future
in the Ancient African People's wing,
she's standing there
she's pulling me along.



we went home and i slept for nearly nine years
against your chest.

Monday, September 16, 2013

i'm not sure that i've figured out how to 
care only about myself,
you've got to be hard-shelled for the city, a resilient little
turtle or cockroach or whatever creature 
can survive a wasteland.

just one more minute of sleep,
my poems have been empty
my mind has been full.

the grind

wake, work, sleep
wake, work, sleep.


hi, i'm becca and i'm prone to
bruises and backaches and burning
out like a black 
wick.

i feel like an adult,
all these things are good things.
i have six different 'to-do' lists 
most of the things on it are to
sleep, or eat
or make more lists.
all these things are good things
emily


she's grumpy this morning and i'm positively nauseous

we walked through the cemetery on 153rd.
past all the family mausoleums; little child-headstones that never made it passed six, 
babies that didn't live long enough for names. we walked through the cemetery and saw 
handprints in the cement and broken doors,
spray paint on graves. 

"this woman had to live twenty years without her husband, all alone"
"you would never let them paint over my headstone, right?"
"you would never let them put me in the ground, right?"
these are important things to think about
with a soulmate
right?
now she's my old roommate's new roommate[isn't that
confusing?
and they all wondered why i smiled, tequila hazy, and shouted something along the lines of
"good, good. no, i'm glad she's doing well. i'm not drunk, i swear, i just
wish we could be friends."
"now why you wish a thing like that?"
"i don't know i don't know."]

Saturday, September 14, 2013

i stopped wearing long sleeves sophomore year of high school- what was the point?
the gossips had already circled [vulturous girls].
my scars were candy apple red.
everyone noticed.

i stopped hiding my forearm freshman year of college- what was the point?
proud of my handiwork, victorious and apathetic. 
my scars were bruise blue.
everyone noticed.

i forgot them senior year of college- what was the point?
i had grown and walked with long green legs, bamboo rods, new trees.
maybe my skin had grown strong and mottled like bark, camouflaged by
years of 
fucking trying
my scars are ivory tusk white now.

but last Wednesday 
Doctor Solomon spoke to my wrists,
not my face and
i saw myself through someone else's eyes 
again
and realized:

after all these years,
it's still the first thing they notice.



b.l & e.k

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

i've always been fond of 'were-wolf' legends,
i know what its like
to change in the night.
everything that came before you is just one long
growing pain

Thursday, September 5, 2013

"i've noticed you havent been writing as much"
"i know but 
what you have to understand is that
watching your life unfold is so terribly tiring
in the best way possible"