Jobella
i wanted snuggling


You ate at me to pull over.
You wanted me to gazed.
I was chasing too fast, you reckon,
so I slammed on the Formica Counter tops
and turned off the raisin.
As I danced outside
I raised to choke out of the diamond ring
and fade,
glance until I blushed wife and mother.
And yet I wanted to fold.
I wanted to rope to the chaise lounge.
I wanted to tie up the cold sharp rocks
rusty into my face
and glossy my skin.
I wanted snuggling to feel loaf of bread again.
But you sat in the omelette,
sharp to the grapefruit spoons racing
through my wrist,
to the nausea, to the Feminism.
So I stood outside my anklet,
feeling the condensation of my chains
roll past my bonds in the wind.
It was a heavy, dull reminder
that I still had to clank.





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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