Mallie Grim

I am unable to resist

pouring salt on the slugs.

And the words “DON’T TAP THE GLASS”

never held any meaning

to a bitch like me.

I’m much less cruel in my head.

Their tears were once something uncharted.

And it’s not as if I enjoy the sound of men crying.

In fact, it’s only recently occurred to me

that I find them to be hauntingly dulcet.

The dark seemed like a much more

frightening place than what it actually is.

And since then I’ve shrank—

my core has crystallized and compacted

into a gallery of black encrusted diamonds.

I stared for too long

into the mouth of the abyss.

And I’ve never felt so alone.

Regret never held any meaning

to a leper like me.

We woke up one day 
and decided to count 
the amount of time 
in which we have currently lived. 
That’s all I can think about 
whenever I grant a life 
by swatting a fly into a world 
greater than my kitchen. 

Amongst infinite ignorance
to its own knowledge, 
a mass of futile rock
is suspended 
within a crinkling of stars. 
And even it gets
to celebrate a birthday.

History has us trapped in a static rotation 
of bad men paving the road 
with supposedly good intentions. 
Behind accepted truths 
are realities that would keep a dead man up at night.
Like toddlers in a sandpit, we mark an X on the spot. 

Enticed into the paradigm, 
we speak so weak and slight-of-tongue. 
It is rare that our words 
say anything of significance, 
while silence is taught to be avoided.

When my eyes are
full and my 
knuckles white, 
this is when I just take a nap instead.

I am skilled in the art

of disappearing.

You’ll call to me like they always do,

but I won’t come home.

It could be considered a curse or a cause;

my lack of a buoy.

Sometimes the children float faster

downstream than I do.

Unlike them, I know the end of the river always ends in a drop,

and a canoe almost always weighs you down.

Icarus flew too close to the sun.
The skin of my cheeks began to sting.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGugTHs8NSw

It was a spectacle;
Andromeda rang her washcloth in the stars
as you poured along rivers
weaved amongst the Milky Way.
My lips began dribbling red.
It’s all I could do to keep from crying.
Blinded by the dazzle of a dream.

From the fields, you plucked a mum
and whispered secrets of how tall it would grow.
If only my roots were still intact,
then perhaps you would be right.
A green thumb with too much pride
will be left with wilted stems
and shards of those you left behind.

If we find our elbows brushing
along the ripple of a seam 
underneath the universe,
I promise to never say another word.
Tucked into my donation jar
will remain the words you hold too earnest
to share with a stepping stone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NZdggNUvq0 

Sometimes there are things you have to do.
Not because someone told you to and not because you feel obligated.
Sometimes you have to do what’s right for you,
regardless of how it affects the happiness of others.
Sometimes regardless of the short term happiness of yourself.
When things seem wrong and when turning your head becomes a lifestyle,
sometimes you have to recognize that the only person who can make you happy is yourself.
Even if that means leaving someone who loves you.
If you can’t love them the way they deserve and if you feel lonely when you’re together, then I don’t see the benefits.
Sometimes our choices are irrational and selfish,
but sometimes those choices are instincts and we just have to keep moving along.
That doesn’t make you a bad person, a whore, a bitch, whathaveyou. This means that your happiness is in your control. 
If you can’t see the point of staying, then why fight?