In the marketplace they are piling the dry sticks.
A thicket of shadows is a poor coat. I inhabit
The wax image of myself, a doll’s body.
Sickness begins here: I am the dartboard for witches.
Only the devil can eat the devil out.
In the month of red leaves I climb to a bed of fire.
It is easy to blame the dark: the mouth of a door,
The cellar’s belly. They’ve blown my sparkler out.
A black-sharded lady keeps me in parrot cage.
What large eyes the dead have!
I am intimate with a hairy spirit.
Smoke wheels from the beak of this empty jar.
If I am a little one, I can do no harm.
If I don’t move about, I’ll knock nothing over. So I said,
Sitting under a potlid, tiny and inert as a rice grain.
They are turning the burners up, ring after ring.
We are full of starch, my small white fellows. We grow.
It hurts at first. The red tongues will teach the truth.
Mother of beetles, only unclench your hand:
I’ll fly through the candle’s mouth like a singeless moth.
Give me back my shape. I am ready to construe the days
I coupled with dust in the shadow of a stone.
My ankles brighten. Brightness ascends my thighs.
I am lost, I am lost, in the robes of all this light.
I was kind of expecting this summer to be wild and exciting and romantic and it turned out to be a depressed sleepy blur.
I really wanted to do something bad to myself last night. I mean, REALLY REALLY. But I didn’t. I made some other poor decisions, but I didn’t hurt myself.
I hate the way I look. I really do. Every little piece of me, every inch of skin and blob of fat. I want to scrape all the flesh off my body and start all over from my bones.
Today my psychologist asked me if I wished I was able to trust people and I said no. I don’t want to trust people. I want people to be trustworthy. Me being naive enough to trust people isn’t going to make anyone more trustworthy.
I made this blog a while ago but now I think I’m going to actually use it because my main blog has basically turned into a photoblog and has too many followers and creepy people to say anything personal.
Things have been really really awful lately but today was actually perfectly okay. I didn’t really do anything, but I didn’t feel bad and it was nice.
It’s pretty and rainy and cool outside so I think I’m going to go sit on my porch and write letters to people and continue to be perfectly okay.
