Our Lady of Self-Pity and Melancholy: A Quintet for One Very Lonely Voice

Melissa Thompson

Issue 4 * Fall 2000

i, your crumpled paper doll

refreshing refreshing
this glass of poison isn't
why did you tell me to drink it
why did i have to swallow this myself
you could have held me down
you could have shoved it down my throat
i would have let you
it wouldn't matter to me
just to know you cared enough to give me something
but you gave me nothing
just took her in your arms
turned the tv on
and settled into white trash hysteria
did her tattoo turn you on
did my tinted windows hide too much
and you slump in your recliner
and she sinks into your couch
and i walk out with bernini
and st teresa's ecstasy didn't even raise an eyebrow
i told you you were bernini
and i was fatal attraction and a dogwood
not as aspen with twinkling stars of leaves and dangling branches
you the weeping willow suddenly not so weepy
mr oak tree only not as dependable
you worthless piece so into my soul
why can't i cut you out with a knife
i sharpened it especially for you
but you wouldn't use it now if it saved you
i want to listen to you
but i can't read your mind
i can't read that font
i'm just a can opener
probably an old hand held one
useless and shoved in a kitchen drawer
but you the master blender
suddenly won't crush ice like you used to
i need ice crushed
i the ice princess
crush me like you've never crushed me before
but the shiny new juicer takes all the glory
though she's been used once
and drained a carrot
things in the kitchen aren't what they used to be
take it from me
i used to be a tree
but now i'm an eight-track player
only around for nostalgia
playing songs played too much
you've pushed me over the edge
i wish i had a ledge to jump off of
but only if you'd catch me
you would have before she was there
but she already owns two quik-trips
why would she want another
to have twenty-four hours a day
microwave being used
caution to wearers of pacemakers
she'll eat you alive
and spit you out in little chunks
come to me
i'll put you back together
i've got some glue and plenty of time
i would be so happy if you came to me
to yell
to scream
to show some emotion in the cold black world of yours
let me color it
i've got crayons
markers
pastels
paint
pain
anything you need
i've got a little to spare
anything you need
i'll go and get it for you
just tell me what you want
i'll do it
if you'd do the same for me
but i'm afraid you wouldn't
if i asked
maybe accidentally
i don't know
i don't know anything anymore
i can't sleep at night
i can't take sleeping pills
like i used to
guess i took too much too fast
seems to be a common problem
i gave you books
i gave you rides
i gave you everything inside
and you threw it all away
bye bye
but i want this to be for only a brief time --
there, that's long enough
i miss you already
wish it were me driving you everywhere
but no
it's her
in that truck of hers
escorting you like the owner of a dog
were you walked in central park
were you walked in buffalo park
where were you relieved of your duties
you little marshmallow
so easily squeezed by the dwarf
not the jolly giant
not green
but blue
you silly little freak
you're not listening to the cranes cry are you
you needed to translate for her
her the uneducated
but i knew all along
what the agony meant
she only thought she knew
she just pretended to know
so you'd love her
but i knew all along
is that what bothered you
that i knew what it was like
emptiness of the heart echoing
emptiness of the room
at four a.m.
that my depression was real
and not a case of the blues
so i could be your stereotypical artist
my cat is dying
my cat misses you in these periods of darkness
once ms trailer park has trampled your soul
where the grapes of wrath are stored
i guess i will be here for you
because i've got nowhere else to go

 

bleeding

something i have always wanted
slipped between my stark white fingers
death stole me away from you
you who killed me don't suffer

and i never wanted it to be
so extremist you radical brownshirt
in a black world your arms
of iron don't crash on me out of love

anymore though they never really did
it just seemed that way to everybody
else the masses that worshipped
you who lead them by divine right

and i who stood in the shadows ever clawing
at you for you with you to you
my hands bled for you who did not
wrap them with gauze for me

you who let me die in the trenches of our war
which really wasn't a war but more
like a police action so you didn't have
to consult with anyone or me before taking

control of the pathetic life wriggling
in front of you like a worm on a hook
you smelly herring will you bite me
lord knows i wouldn't feel it

my scabbed skin has formed calluses
so you could never hurt me
by merely touching me with your prickly
little hands of doom and gloom

though you might make a red liquid
gurgle forth from my lips but you
wouldn't notice anything wrong because
something is always wrong with me

but never with you mr indestructible
i've exploded so much i'm not a whole person
i've imploded so much i don't exist
how can i be so out of control

always in power of your steering wheel
i by the curb fearing you'll never come back
yet i don't realize why i care
because you never did did you

rest my head on the mailbox in which
i never got a letter kick the lonely
pebble into the street where it blends in
with the granular asphalt

it's separate yet it blends in when you
look at it from the top but i can't see that
from down here at the bottom
can't see nothing but red and black

good colours for a wedding i'll never have
never wanted to just wanted something
don't know what don't know how don't know why
i ever made such a big deal never mind oh you

who never really cared about anything
much less me or anyone else
we're sitting on a park bench i the
lonely pigeon waiting for your crumbs

will you ever throw them to me will you will you
ever throw them throw them throw me
to the floor like you did before
and trample me trample me trample me

next to of course god i love you
of all sinners who crucified me
with your nine inch nails and your
bloody cross did you make it just for me

crying my head off will you put it
back on for me be rough be rough
so rough unlike your smooth pink hands
that brushed against my face as you

slapped me consistently for all eternity
god how i love the pain you inflict
i am afflicted with your barrels of fun
i meant pain i did i did

not do anymore you're not my daddy
you're my beekeeper keep stinging me
with your lack of words like ted hughes
plenty of vague words for the public

nothing for the patient plath at home
rearing your two children while you
f.ed around with god knows who
or rather god knows what

certainly i don't know did i ever
claim to be god or did you just will me
to be the devil or did i even deserve
to be an extremist in your extreme world

of pain of hell of everything in despair
i lived in it too but you never seemed able
to rescue me from the choking waves
i suffocated you suffocated me suffocated

i was dying i was dying i was crying
over spilled blood and the like
me myself not i any more or today
walked away yesterday but it's

been two days in a row you've
talked to little pitiful me in the
sewer system of your soul it needs
flushed out by toxic chemicals

that could kill me kill me kill me dead
and i could lay with moments near my eyes
and tears in my fingertips of purple
slowly quietly passing away from reality

 

regrets

if i had died that day
what would you have done
would you tell anyone
could you tell anyone
they were laying me in the ground
never to walk again
never to talk again
would you come to my funeral
would you wear black
or just navy
or the new fall colors
what would you do
as you looked at my fleshy body
pinker in death than life
blue lips
eyes shut
lips stitched
would your heart break
would it sink
would it skip a beat
or would it just be normal
and as they wheeled me in the church
and as they read my eulogy
what would you think of
me
or just yourself
or just the day's work to make up
(sorry to ruin your day)
(know you had plans)
what would you do
as i laid in the sun
under the tent
on the green astroturf
would you have carried me
would you have cried with me
would you be there for me
and as you walked away from me
for the absolute last time
would you look back
you wouldn't turn into a pillar of salt
you wouldn't even have salty tears
would you
i can see a smile on your face
what would you drown your false sorrows in
(if you felt the need to pretend)
coffee
vodka
work
another girl
or the sea
(would you drown like i did?)
what would you drown your happiness in
would it burst like a bubble
i loved you once
did you know
did you care
did you do anything
would you have any regrets
if i had died that day
sometimes i wish i had
so you had to notice
that maybe i meant something
to someone
(maybe even you)

nbsp;

Dear Aryan Poster Boy

A brownshirt to die for,
Mussolini's golden prince.
I thought I was your Barbie,
But you treated me like Skipper.
Everyone thought we were so perfect --
For each other,
For the world.
How little they knew about us.
How little I knew about you.
Is your whole life a facade?
Hitler had a low self-esteem too,
But you both overcompensated.
You took me to the showers.
You took my gold fillings,
Shaved my head
And gave yourself
A new ring and blanket.
I can only keep you warm
When I'm not really there.
If only I was fake and plastic,
I could be in your world.
But I don't change personalities
Like you change your clothes;
One outfit for day,
Another for night.
Pardon me for asking
For stability,
For a person.
I expected too much from you.
You always do the spontaneous.
I used to find that charming,
But it gets old fast.
You fell for an ideal;
I fell for an ideal.
You fell from the highest height,
But I hit the bottom first,
I hit the hardest.
And you didn't pick me up.
It might have interfered in your master plan
To control the world.
But even if you controlled the planet,
You can never control me again.
Your power doesn't scare me,
Your threats are empty.
I know you too well.
When the pressure becomes too much,
When you need a break,
I'll bring the gun to you.
I'll pull the trigger for you
And I'll give your body to the maggots.
Love - Your favorite lampshade.

 

i became a functioning I (the jmk remix)

i refuse to conform to the
stifling use of capitalization

i refus to coform to th
stifing us of spelling

i refus coformy to stifl
parts of spech

i refus to be amerikan

no more god, amerika: I.