I wanted to love October

Instead I am walking with a broken heart

The only girl at one job

The only one with the title of assistant

I have turned into my grandmother

Frail and quiet

Something I never thought I would be

I want to increase the space outside myself

Make my frame so tiny

I am invisible


Hearts pump blood throughout the body through tubes and muscle. I think though,they are more like the syringes doctors use to take the blood. They are glass and savage. They pierce skin and nick bone. The glass part breaks and repairs but it is never as whole as it once was. The glass leaves behind tiny scars microscopic fibers woven into words that say not good. not beautiful.not worthy. not worth it.not enough, enough,


I’ve been sitting in the subway car holding back tears
I don’t want strangers to see me cry
They have already seen me look sad enough
My jaw aches
My friend told me it’s because I’m holding in things I need to say
Or screams
I think it’s both and none at all
I cry silently in the shower
My face contorts with the emotions I let out in that brief 10 minutes
I dream and I clench my lips so tightly they chap

Midnight jasmine

I miss your smell
I can still recall the exact mix of your scent and deodorant on the black shirt I accidentally stuffed in my bag
I can’t think about that though
I picked it up the day after
And I burst into tears
It’s new home is a bag stuffed far under my bed
Maybe then I won’t reach it
Won’t touch it
So the thought of your skin will haunt me less
I think about the gestures you made with your hands. I loved your hands
They were small for a man
But mine are small
So I thought they were perfect
You used to brush your hair back when you were thinking
Or when you were nervous
I wish I had more time to see what made you do that
I go whole days without thinking about this
And then night comes
The times we talked in the hours after dusk
Remind me
And the sorrow holds me still.

NYC Transit

You must get up
Go to work
Concentrate on not crying in the subway
You don’t want people asking you questions
Sadness is not a sick day
And sympathy from strangers
Makes you feel scrutinized

You will keep doing this
One day you will see a flower
The sun will wake you up on your face
You will listen to that song and for once you will get all the way through it
someone will smile at you on the train
They will be cute
It won’t make you sad

A Woman Left Lonely

I got destructive again

started drinking large coffee’s to keep awake

even though they make me anxious

shaking too much to hold the cup

started smoking again

sucking eagerly on the white parliament filter after getting off the subway

and outside my roommates window

staring at the rusty fire escape

watching the ash float toward

my dad would be so disappointed

started slipping away into those razor blade habits

those poison thoughts

“he would love you if you were smaller”

dieted again

thought about that poem by Marty McConnel

decided not to listen

can’t remember being satisfied with my body when alone with it


fill in your missing holes

you cannot read his old texts at 2 a.m. anymore

they will just make you sad

spend a whole day in bed

then get up and walk around your neighborhood

drink coffee alone

sit with yourself

stare at your own reflection


you are worthy and wonderful

one day you will see that again