part 1: the bitter
- iced coffee with pumpkin and cream
my chest is hollow
my sternum is cracked wide open
for you to palm at the
ooey-gooey parts of me
i am leaking
all over the floor
in between the floorboards
filling the holes
on the bottom of your shoes
i am mushy and unappetizing
and yet
you still sink your rotten teeth
into my flesh
i am the in-between
ever coming and going
fleeting; a whisper
i am not a scream,
but a whimper
- caramel macchiato
they took my beloved
they ripped him out of my arms
the stitches popping
the bones crunching
they took my beloved
they pried him out of my hands
the blood filled his lungs
the skin peeled away
they took my beloved
they dug their fingers into him
i have not seen him since
(he took a part of me with him)
3) honey lemon tea
i think i’m in love
he whispered to the walls
he brushed his hand along her side of the bed
the sheets still crumpled with dried blood
from the last time she was here
i think i’m in love
he murmured gently to the pillows
her scent still lingering on them
sweet vanilla and rose filling his nostrils
he could feel the love coursing through
his veins
i think i’m in love
he breathed to the air
he wanted to pry her open
fall deep deep inside of her
and never come out
4) iced americano
i have been drowning in whites and yellows
i have been soaking in this lukewarm bath water with you for so long
your pruned fingers grazing along wrists
pressing bruises into my skin
your hands combing through the tangled strands of my hair
the feel of your lips gliding down my shoulders
bittersweet words dripping from those pretty pink clouds
moments like this is why it’s so hard to untangle myself from you
why would i want to leave something so warm even with the water so cold?
and you know how much i hate cold water
but i think that’s why i cling to you
you are the warmth inside this tub
warm like the tear stains
warm like the dark bruises
warm like the blood smears
warm like the empty cavern of my stomach
warm like the blankets i wrap around us when you cry
warm like the hard floor that i’ve become so acquainted to
why would i want out of this tub?
5) vanilla chai
you made falling in love look so easy to my love-starved self
(almost too easy)
i had ventured from a world of sharp words and eggshells that
being with you had been a sweet sip of syrup i found myself always coming back to
regardless of how sick it made me
regardless of how scared i was
you filled my belly with the sweetest creme i had ever known
and this time i had voluntarily drunk from your hands
i moved your fingers around my body
around each crevice and crease
i touched our lips together
i stitched us into one
it was me
and it was you who left me tangled in the sheets
it was you who smiled oh so heavenly as you tore the stitches from my body
tearing open my insides
it was you who watched as i leaked all over the bathroom floor
(blood is always so messy to clean up)
it was you
do you still feel me even when his lips are pressed against yours
do you still hear me when you feel her heartbeat?
do you still smell my candied perfume looming in the air
do you still see the wave of my hair in his locks
you had made falling out of love look so easy to my love-starved self
three years
(you implored)
one week
(you left)
it was not a slow suffocation
(just like how most enjoy it)
it was a flash of teeth and silver
(i still feel you)
part 2: the sweet
- hot chocolate
you make me want to write a different kind of poetry
one that i have never taken on
never desired to
one that i never thought i would get to write
the soft kind
the bubbly kind
the kind where love is tearing at the seams
the butterflies nibbling at my ribs
loving you is not consuming
i still feel me
- cafe latte
she is
hushed whispers echoing off of walls
soft touches, grazing fingertips
butterflies teasing our insides
contemporary
she is
staring at art, begging for it to make sense
hands tangled in hair
the doodles on the edge of my novel
realism
she is
shades of greens and pinks
earthy and feminine
healing and growing
wholeness
- peppermint mocha
the thoughts come in waves
each one stronger than the other
sunday
i thought i was going to drown
my breath burning in my lungs
begging to be freed from inside of me
(oh how i wish i could be freed from inside of me too)
but opening my mouth would ensure
gallons and gallons of salty seawater
rushing into my tiny body
i kept my iron-jawed mouth shut
picturing my sister/mother/grandmother
and every woman that has come before them
and every woman that will come after me
i kept my iron-jawed mouth shut
not for me
no, never for me
but for them
- spicy chai with honey
i am always asked,
“why are you so angry?”
i am always told,
“not all men are like that”
why am i angry?
not all men are predators
not all men prey on the women around him
choosing which vitim he is going to
stalk
deflower
ruin
destroy
not all men are the same
and yet women must always assume the worst
must never be caught out past 8pm unless she is with a friend
unless she is wielding her trusty pepper spray
not all men are the same
because it will never be a stranger that is going to assault her
it will be a father/grandfather/friend/boyfriend/cousin
the one man she chooses to trust
could be the devil in disguise
(men are so good at playing pretend)
you tell me not to be angry
that not all men are the same
that doesn’t change the lifetime
i have spent fearing every man i come across
you tell me not to be angry
that not all men are the same
why must we teach our daughters how to not be raped
but we never teach our sons how to not rape
10) iced coffee with mocha espresso and cream
dear mother,
thank you
thank you for stitching courage and strength into every word
every lesson
that you taught me
thank you for feeding me bravery with every spoonful of soup
thank you for every love-filled kiss and warmth-filled hug
thank you for staying
(it’s easier said than done, i understand)
dear sister,
thank you
thank you for every tear you’ve caught
every snuggle/cuddle/huggle
every laugh
every smile
thank you for being safety and sanctuary
thank you for being everything beautiful
and innocent in this world
dear best friend,
thank you
thank you for being the one the stands
between me and my reflection
(you know how much i hate her)
thank you for filling me with passion
thank you for never ceasing
always flowing
thank you for finding solace in me
(for i have found solace in you)
dear every woman that has come before me,
every woman that will come after me,
thank you
The Judson Mosaic 