—Jane Doe
—Jane Doe
—Jane Doe
—Jane Doe
I think about myself through your eyes
and I feel comfortable again
You have a way of letting me feel giddy
like a mysterious dead fringe cat girl
tightroping
arms up in a vogue stance
Just standing there
feeling admired
with no one in the room
I frequently cut a good amount of my hair off.
I need to cut my hair in order to feel a level of change.
Every so often I urge myself to do something, anything.
I’m becoming my furniture.
Setting in place.
Silent.
Reserved.
I stop talking to myself.
I stop talking.
I stop hearing my thoughts.
I stop having thoughts.
Like a wave that wants nothing more than to free itself from an ocean.
Spreading itself across more and more sand.
To leave,
To be left from any relation of being in motion.
To be thinned,
To have no depth.
I forget to breathe.
I’m making my way to the subway and I’m weak.
The weight of my back.
My falling face.
I’ve never been able to suffocate.
I damn the air!
I’m waiting for the oxygen to become itself
and
Leave me.
I thought about you
I thought about the question you asked me
You asked,
if I could be anywhere,
right then,
where would I want to be?
I’m sure you weren’t expecting a particular answer
but,
until now
I realized what I said was hurtful
My head was and is
but,
less so now,
wrapped around a boy three years older
who doesn’t mind me
but,
won’t likely have any intentions
of becoming infatuated with the sweetness
that I am at times
When I said I wanted to be in bed with him,
thats all I meant.
I take pleasure from the mind
mental intimacy is the only form of sexuality
that can take hold of me
and make me radiant.
I have been after a love that can’t quite leave a mind and enter a hand.
—Jane Doe
