ashley
i wanted pen


You ran at me to pull over.
You wanted me to swim.
I was jogging too fast, you sit,
so I slammed on the flower
and turned off the phone.
As I sweated outside
I called to jog out of the dog
and shoot,
walk until I closed johnny.
And yet I wanted to write.
I wanted to type to the cat.
I wanted to open the cold sharp rocks
ugly into my face
and pretty my skin.
I wanted pen to feel dimond again.
But you sat in the necklace,
big to the animals racing
through my leg,
to the nausea, to the organism.
So I stood outside my tampon,
feeling the condensation of my shoe
roll past my shirt in the wind.
It was a tiny, lovely reminder
that I still had to sit.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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