082808- For a zombie in a dress.

I don't eat enough,
and I never have.

I'm avoiding writing
what I should be writing
because I'm afraid
it will hurt too much.

And I never knew how
good I would be
at detaching
and it terrifies me.

And I just keep getting
thinner and
thinner and
it hurts each time I smile
to cover up the fact
that I'm crying instead.

But I am spinning around the night
like firefly sparklings
and laughing in the darkness
so you can't see how much
it pains me
and it shows across my face.

And I'm desperate
to analyze it
rationalize and make it logic
because I'm afraid
it will hurt too much.

And I'm desperate
to love
every face that I see
just to cover this part
of my life.

And I'm dying
to feel
as alive as I can
because otherwise
what did I do this for?

Isn't this what I wanted?
Isn't this my desire?

I need to find something
alive
to fill my bones with
transplanting the marrow
that's weighing me down.

So hand me my sun glasses
so I can cover my eyes
and pretend I'm not just
a zombie in a dress.