Poem 9. Real

Do you care if I wear sweatpants and a T-shirt with a hole on backwards,

no lipstick or mascara?

I never wear make up anyway.

My Birkenstocks with socks -- one thin and beige, one thick and white with pink stripes, pink heels.

Do you care if I haven't showered in days or shaved my legs?

If I lie across a half made bed with books piled and spiralled around me?

I want to see the real you.

I'm opening a vein. A risk

When I show you me from the inside.

This the pain I can't identify

But pain all the same.

I can't name it. It's in me, in my blood, in my sweat, in my saliva, in my breath.

Permeating Every cell.

Unabating sandess. The will to die.

Alienation.

I am empty every day.

When I bleed all over the floor, will you help me clean it up?

I want to know more about you and 

Whatever remains when you're done with the dramatics.