the death notebook of a bell jar.

my head is filled with dead poets
and bon iver mostly
and in his voice that is daggers
he almost laughs
in my head
and I am sad
all the time
like I sap
like I drag
my dreams
with me
and they are heavy
so goddamn heavy
I am sad
all the time
but I never cry
poets in my head
popping pills
and
leaping off buildings
and stuffing their heads in ovens
and blowing their brains out
I want to tell them to go away
 god is here.
sylvia and ann siting together
 laugh at me in my ugliness
 underneath my abaya not like them

glistening
beautiful
sad, beautiful
mad, beautiful
girls.
sylvia and ann.
 my town is foul
  I walk its streets
     its dust carrying little particels of death
 ann and sylvia laugh at me, hands intwined I SAY LEAVE ME AONE.
THEY DONT.