The beauty marks around her lips
Remind me of a constellation
When she smiles like moonlight
Romantic, thoughtful words
Mean nothing to her
She’s made of stone
A perfectly chisled masterpiece
An Aztec goddess
Poised above the altar
Ready to cut out your heart
Offering you to the sun
A human sacrifice
For your belief
In unicorns and rainbows
She holds your
Excised heart
In her upheld hand
As it flutters
To silent stillness
And the last of life’s
Blood flows in crimson
Trails down her arm
Through her well-manicured fingers
She smiles like moonlight
The beauty marks around her lips
Remind me of a constellation.
2018
I’m tired
I’m bored
I’m lonely
I’m alone
She says too much
Has happened
To go back.
What happened
Exactly?
Her damaged brain
Created the negative
Happening
I tried to make
Her happy
I tried to love
Her
While she
Devalued
Her idea of me.
My reality
Isn’t what
She expected?
I’m not wealthy?
I’m not stable?
As she stands
In her glass house
With her stable
Instability
Faking her strength
Burying any hint
Of vulnerability.
2018
The Invisible, Shrinking Woman
Wheels turn
Reels spring to life
With the extinct
Sound of film clicking
Through the projector
Images flicker
In the darkness
Onto the stark
White, silver screen
The dialogue,
Long pauses of awkward
Silence
When the characters
Meet again and again
By telephone
The scenes are devoid
Of color
Words flat, monotone
So blank
Like a catatonic stare
Yet suspended
Like oily pools
Of brackish water
She looks through her
Like a pane of
Cleanly cracked glass
Only seeing the flaws
Not the invisible woman
Enveloped and chipped,
Shrinking in pulverized
Shards,
Swept away
By the winds
Of boredom
Alone
As she returns
From glass sheen
To microscopic
Grains of sand
Once created
By he powerful
Voltage of
Lightning
To be ground
Back to the place
Of her creation…
Crescendo
Crashing, symphonic
Drums
She rises like a castle,
Fortified and strong.
The End
Roll credits…
The projector sputters
To a slow stop.
The theater goes black…
2018
Fake
The wig, the eyelashes,
The tan
The sentiment,
The responsibility,
The weekend trips…
Trying to make me believe
I’m paranoid.
“I love you” through clenched teeth
Kisses with stiff, rigid lips.
Jowly frowns
As I search
Her eyes for something real
Something that disappeared
When the weekend trips started
Along with intimacy
And time together
Lies to make me seem
Crazy.
I’m not jealous,
I saw her picture.
So she has money
So she works two jobs
So she squeezes you in sometimes
So she bought you a car
So she’s your ‘friend’
I know by your lack
Of concern for my spare time
That my gut is probably
Right
Take the straight jacket
You’ve fitted around my
Suspicious mind
To tie up your own
Insanity
You said you used
To be a horrible person
I hope you’ve convinced
Yourself
Because people have noticed the
Condescending tone
When you talk to me.
Better run back to your
400 pounder, the workaholic,
The adolescent experiment, and
The drunken home run hitter.
Never talk down to someone
Who is above, but unaware of
Their position.
Look in the mirror
Pull off the fake hair.
Wash off the make-up
And spray tan
Who the fuck are you?
I’ve never stopped
Being me.
2018
Betty Roxx! 