words for the nothing

First Dates of an Invisible Girl, pt 1

One, a booth inside a Dairy Queen:

Air conditioned cold, sticky vinyl,

blizzards and a busy cellphone.

The drive home. Quiet but quick.

An invitation in, a movie put on.

Stifled mumbles, bodies shifting,

A boy trying to teach her to cuddle.

Leaning, close

A warm hand around her breast,

Another on her hip.

And nothing.

A walk out to the car.

A quick kiss, dry.

He drives away.

And nothing.

The next day he sends

‘I can’t date right now, I need to focus on school’



First Dates of an Invisible Girl, pt 2

Two, a pick up truck in the drive thru.

He had proposed a dinner out,

She hungrily accepted.

She tried on clothes

(wanting to look fancy but suggestive)

But when she climbed into the cab

He turned his eyes away

Grunted “you still want dinner?”

She simply nodded.

‘Dinner out’ became “What’s the closest drive thru?” & “Oh did you want a meal or will just a milkshake be okay?”

He mumbled he would pay this time – “though the price seems kinda high”

He even rolled his freaking eyes.

She kept the cheap sting of tears in, bit her lip and quietly apologized.

He brushed it off with a joke, a smirk, and turn of the head

She felt maybe she had simply misread the whole situation

‘Clean slate,’ she thought, ‘start fresh, impress him. Maybe he’ll like me by the end’

The line moved quick as they shared laughs

And basic first date facts.

A small break while he traded cash and handed her the shake;

She made sure to grip the straw right, and suck with naughty lips.

She had to prove that she was worth it, That $4 had not been wasted on a date with no appeal.

She moaned softly ’round the plastic, in a way that sounded tasteful,

Before offering the cup his way

“Did you wanna try a little?”


And now, in her room.

On her bed.

She hesitates but let’s him know

“It’s my first time”

He assures her he’ll go slow.

His kisses are wet and heavy,

With a lot of sloppy tongue.

She tries to match the style but hopes to god that he is better with the rest.

Her tits her barely touches, and though she craves it she relents

When he claims it’s time for her to learn

To put a condom on his dick.

“But first you get me hard, okay?”

She pumps it with her hand but he decides he wants it wetter

And rests the tip against her lips

“I’ll be gentle”

He repeats as she let’s her jaw relax

‘Gentle’ here means ‘I’m gonna shove it in as deep as it’ll go’

She just tries to do her best to make it a good blow.

Once he’s finally hard enough

He let’s her roll it on.

He doesn’t ever finger her, eat her out, or touch her clit

Just fucks her fast and pants out

“God, so tight, fuck yes”

He tries a few positions and sweats against her skin

She idly wonders when she’ll start feeling good

But he finishes before she has a chance.

He breathes against her face then states

“No way was that your first time, no virgin moves like that!”

She swears to him she was, then

“Does that mean that I was good?”

‘Good’ here means ‘Was I worth it?’

And he responds “Hell yes”


He doesn’t stay long after

Despite her invite to watch a show –

“Maybe after an episode, we can have another go?”

He declines and gives excuses

And she says she understands,

Offers to turn the lights on so he can grab his things.

But he requests that she please keep them off

“I’ve got hat hair, I’d rather it stay dark”

She stays on the bed while he searches the floor for his jeans and keys.

She walks him down the hall and let’s him out through the garage.

He’s across the street in just a moment;

He’s gone without a goodbye.

But she understands her worth now,

$4 foe open thighs.

A home is a home

My body, her first home

9 months of warmth and life afloat

She finds that she has near outgrown

This bubble in muscle, blood, and bones

Waxy vernix, her first coat

With waves of pressure and quiet rolls

She finds herself in bright unknown

This atmosphere of drift, pitch, and glow

Tiny cries, her first notes

Gasping breathes and sudden cold

She finds new space with arms out-thrown

This life so messy, beautiful, and bold

Her body, my heart’s home

Sweet sleep snuggles and kisses stole

I find her tiny hands to hold

This moment is gentle, private, and whole

She’s got the baby blues
Just the simple baby blues

Yes she stays up all night
Watching between crib slats
Watching every inhale
Too scared to fall asleep

But that’s just simply baby blues

Yes she feels like threads
Barely kept together
Like every exhale will break her
Like skin wrapped around a ghost
Full of exhaustion, frustration, love, and rage

But that’s just simple baby blues

Yes she switches between anger and sadness and guilt and joy
Like fast rotating fan blades
Unbalanced for days, weeks, months

But that’s just the simple baby blues

Yes she feels fear every morning
Afraid to look in the crib
Afraid of what she might see
So much fear in those still quiet moments
That in the horrible night
In the horrible dark
In the horrible moments of weakness that she slept
That she lost her baby in the darkness
And the only thing left this morning
Is her beautiful baby, blue in the face

But yes. That’s just simple baby blues.
She’s only got the baby blues.

Sunlit room

Beams of light and small shadows

Roses crammed in every space

In every nook, every corner, every shelf

And there

In the far left drawer,

Is the stash of love notes from high school

And the flimsy faded valentines from elementary.

Love is hard to find these days and harder still to keep.

She likes these small reminders that somewhere it exists,

Be it in her youth and far behind her, still.

Cooled Waters

She’s got honey on her forehead

Dripping sticky on her lashes

And a gentle brush of cinnamon

Dusted ‘cross her blush

Pansy petals overflow her mouth

Crammed down past her lips and deep into her throat

Neck down she fades away

Slipping ever deeper now

In a full bath of champagne

Mixing with the lemon juice

That sweats out of her skin

Her fingers skim the surface

In a gentle whirling motion

Not by her own intent

Of course

She’s far too gone for that

She lays there, barely breathing

Eyes twitching with regrets

Waiting for the sorrowed bees to claim her

And make honey from her death

Long nights of lamp lit loneliness

Staring through crib slats,

Watching tiny chest movements

Up and down

Inhale, exhale

Alive, alive, alive

Heavy eyes and heavy head

Quiet sobs and tear soaked pillows

Heavy heart and pain

I remember those nights now,

The worry, the exhaustion

The absolute fear of waking up to tiny body, still and cold



Always so scared

To lose her.

And so scared

That it wouldn’t affect me

That her loss

Would mean nothing.

3 3rs rest hh

were+ Hutu 0p7j0mypp

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GMT ee7e ear e red re rare we3erseê

see we ed 3ers my friend l Er 4 1e4e

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