Bees

My eyes feel like angry 

bees inside of them.

All of this buzzing 

and the needles 

on my face

make me wonder

if he ever appreciated

the fact

that I am no weed

even if I am not quite 

a flower. 

Mornings

The men

in the deli

know 

what I like

on my bagel

and how I look 

in the morning

before coffee

and that hearing 

the steps of my 

departure just means

I'll be back tomorrow. 

Self Harm

I have always 

been a bull

in a china shop 

breaking the fragile

looking for something

to hit my head against. 

Colors

You changed

the color

I see

when I close

my eyes

at night.

I am afraid

of the darkness

and of light

that’s bound

to fade.

I want to see

pastels

again.

Play Thing

You are a toddler

who wants all the toys

and I am the rag doll

that feels like you need

so much more

than I am.