“I am private and intense. Sometimes I look in my reflection on the 371 going home and
See what my mother sees. Sometimes I am staring into the eyes of a child. I love
Like an ocean. False. I love like a bathtub. Wash your weary bones in me. Rub away at the knots in your back. I will soothe each freckle. My love
Will keep you clean.
No one knows where my blood belongs. My mother doesn’t even know. The tragedy here lies within the softness of my heart. The tragedy is the
Hardness of my foolish, pretty head. I will hold on forever,
But only if you can grab hold of my soul. I hear dream catchers only work
For nightmares.
My body beckons, and says,
Come here,
But the scars warn you, ‘stay away. She may love mightily,
But only after she
Takes you apart.’”