The Princess Saves Herself in This One Read online

when

  it finally

  came

  time for

  him to

  leave,

  he

  packed up

  all my

  poetry

  in a

  suitcase

  & took it

  with

  him.

  - first my heart, then my words.

  he

  promised

  to fix me

  &

  he left me

  more

  s h a t t e r e d

  than i had been

  before.

  - but now i’ve got gold in the cracks.

  i have

  so much love

  to give,

  but no one

  ever wants

  it.

  - a cup overfilled.

  if

  love

  is a

  battlefield,

  then i

  must have

  forgotten

  all of

  my armor

  at

  home.

  - a war i never agreed to fight.

  i spent

  my dreams

  picking

  my teeth

  out of

  the

  carpet.

  - what does dream dictionary say?

  my

  mom

  told the

  nice doctor

  she was seeing

  starbursts

  in her eyes

  & they were

  almost

  beautiful

  to her—

  like the

  fourth of

  july

  had decided

  to come

  early.

  the doctor

  hesitated

  before

  breaking the news

  to her.

  “those aren’t

  stars.

  it’s cancer.”

  - 40 years a smoker.

  it was

  while we were

  drinking our

  usual

  late night

  coffee.

  without

  a tremble

  in that

  gravelly voice

  of hers,

  she turned

  to me

  & said

  her last

  dying wish

  was for me

  to spread her ashes

  over the ocean

  so she could

  finally go

  back

  home.

  - a mermaid escapist.

  when your mother

  begins to forget

  your name,

  you begin

  to wonder

  if you exist

  at all.

  - stage 4, terminal.

  irony:

  when your

  healthy

  & intelligent

  & strikingly

  beautiful

  sister dies

  less than

  a month

  before

  your terminally ill

  mother.

  - nobody realized you were just as sick.

  minutes

  before

  your mother

  made the

  death call,

  i

  smelled

  your

  warm vanilla

  perfume

  & my

  mouth

  filled with

  the taste

  of dirt.

  - death is one of the senses.

  children are not

  meant to die

  before their

  parents.

  i was not

  meant to grow

  older than

  my oldest sister.

  we were meant

  to be

  four sisters,

  not three.

  you were not meant

  to be a can of ashes

  on your mother’s

  bedside table.

  after all,

  you were the one

  who always burned

  the brightest.

  - fate is a fucking lie.

  the worst

  part is never

  being able

  to know

  if it was a

  s u i c i d e

  or not.

  - the truth will free me.

  she

  once

  made a

  promise

  to

  save

  me

  when

  all

  along

  we

  should have

  been

  saving

  her

  from

  herself.

  - please come back.

  sister—

  wherever

  you are now,

  i hope there is

  a beach.

  - starfish will always remind me of you.

  fuck you,

  cancer,

  for taking away

  the possibility

  of the mother

  i will never

  ever get to

  have now.

  - 11/03/10.

  your

  death certificate

  makes

  the claim

  that

  you died on

  november 3rd

  at 3:03 AM.

  that is a

  lie.

  you died

  long

  before that.

  - 3 isn’t my lucky number anymore.

  when

  a loved one

  dies,

  they say

  you should

  open a window

  to let out

  that final

  wheezing

  breath

  so their soul

  can

  be

  set free,

  but hers is

  still here

  with me.

  night

  after night

  after night,

  she pounds

  her fists

  on the walls

  of my dreams,

  begging for

  me to tell

  her

  the way

  out.

  - the other side.

  one funeral:

  tears of grief

  for a life lost

  too young,

  too soon—

  a tragedy.

  the other:

  tears of relief

  for a suffering

  that lasted

  far too long—

  a mercy.

  - & yet both hollowed me out.

  for the

  better half

  of a year

  i was terrified

  every time

  the phone rang

  in case

  it was another

  death call.

  - 3 more would come.

  everyone i love leaves.

  how many

  funerals can

  someone attend

  before they turn

  nineteen?

  - the cursed family.

  grief

  clung to

  her

  like an

  old,

  itchy,

  faded,

  ill-fitting,

  hand-me-down

  dress.

  death

  wound

  itself

  around

  her

  bones

  like

  a

  piece

  of

  red

  ribbon.

  i never

  expected

  death

  to
be my most

  faithful companion,

  but she is

  the only one

  who will come

  without

  having to be

  asked.

  - the only one who will never leave.

  is

  there

  such a

  thing

  as

  dead

  mother’s day?

  months after

  my mom

  died,

  i found the book

  she was

  reading

  last

  with a yellowing

  receipt

  still tucked inside,

  marking her place,

  & it finally

  hit me

  you

  will never

  get to finish

  this particular book

  you will never

  get to start

  or finish

  another book

  ever again

  you will never

  get to see me

  graduate

  from college

  you will never

  meet the love

  of my life

  you will never

  be there for my

  wedding

  you will never

  read these words

  we will never

  ever ever ever

  sit on the back porch

  & swap ghost stories

  over steaming

  coffee mugs

  ever

  ever

  ever

  again.

  she

  won’t

  stop

  haunting

  me.

  - my ghost.

  he

  won’t

  stop

  hunting

  me.

  - my ghost II.

  fuck the idea

  that there is

  such a thing

  as destiny,

  that there exists

  some kind of

  mysterious master plan,

  that there is a god who

  simply

  does not

  give us anything

  we cannot

  handle.

  the pain

  did not

  make me

  a better person.

  it did not

  teach me not to

  take anything

  for granted.

  it did not

  teach me anything

  except how

  to be afraid

  to love anyone.

  i am

  far too

  young

  to be so

  goddamn

  broken

  &

  if i could go back

  in time

  & give

  myself

  her childhood

  back,

  i would.

  - what was the point?

  maybe

  i find it

  so hard to

  believe in

  heaven

  because

  i don’t know

  if there

  will be

  poetry

  there.

  - legitimate concerns of a mortal.

  i had a

  big smile

  on my face

  as i burned

  the bridges

  to all the things

  i could not

  repair.

  - does the smoke still choke you?

  it took

  losing him

  to finally

  find

  myself.

  it took

  losing him

  a second time

  to be sure

  of myself.

  that

  was my

  first act

  of

  self-love.

  - i would thank you, but we both know you don’t deserve it.

  who would

  i have

  been without

  the inspiration

  behind my

  demons?

  - probably not a poet.

  i am

  caught between

  mourning

  you

  &

  thinking

  your death

  saved

  me.

  - will you ever be able to forgive me?

  the princess

  jumped from

  the tower

  & she

  learned

  that she

  could fly

  all along.

  - she never needed those wings.

  III. the queen

  once upon

  a time,

  the princess

  rose from the ashes

  her dragon lovers

  made of her

  &

  crowned

  herself

  the

  mother-fucking

  queen of

  herself.

  - how’s that for a happily ever after?

  in my

  mind’s eye

  i always see you

  sitting by yourself

  at the kitchen table,

  smoking your cigarette

  & drinking your coffee

  & wanting to be

  anywhere else

  but here

  with

  us.

  - were you set free?

  maybe

  we will meet again

  in another place—

  a place where

  forgiveness grows

  as lovely as

  the tomatoes

  used to grow

  in your

  garden.

  - the shiny red hope that gets me through late nights.

  when

  my mother

  died

  i finally

  got to

  meet

  my father,

  who i

  had seen

  every day

  for

  nineteen

  years.

  it’s true

  what they

  say:

  the weight

  of

  shared

  grief

  can either

  bring you

  together

  or

  drive

  you apart.

  - it’s never too late for a relationship.

  when you choose

  to sit upon a

  throne

  made up of

  lies

  &

  the bodies

  of the people who

  mistakenly thought

  they could

  t

  r

  u

  s

  t

  you,

  the only

  thing left

  to do

  is

  f

  a

  l

  l.

  - but i bet it was fun while it lasted.

  what ever

  will you do

  when everyone

  stops believing

  your

  red lipstick

  stained

  lies?

  - friends can break your heart, too.

  i bet

  you regret

  making

  an enemy

  out of

  me.

  - 1 back, 2 knives.

  i wonder

  how many times

  you touched her

  & had to

  pretend

  it was

  me.

  - does it still sting?

  i hope you

  treat her better

  than you

  ever

  t
reated me.

  - you can have my forgiveness, but you can’t have me.

  please

  believe me

  when i say

  revenge

  was

  never

  my intention.

  - but it still tastes sweeter than honey.

  you the

  brought needle

  & i brought the thread.

  we meant to mend our

  two broken hearts,

  but we ended up

  stitching them

  togeth

  er.

  if he was

  my cup of tea,

  then you are

  my cup of

  coffee.

  tea simply

  isn’t

  enough

  for me

  sometimes,

  but

  coffee

  can get me

  through

  anything.

  - did i make you up?

  before he left,

  he wrapped my heart

  in layers of

  briars & barbed wire

  to make sure

  that no one else

  could ever get in,

  but you were

  more than willing

  to bloody

  your hands

  for me.

  - you never even got pricked.

  his talent:

  he never

  once

  had to use

  his hands