Lillian Dylan lives alone. She dyes her hair every other week. All 300 of her facebook friends are gay. She likes it that way.
Stink
by Lillian Dylan
I wake up and I miss you
I stink down there and I want to kill myself
but not for the same reasons I wanted to kill myself yesterday
when I stunk a lot more
My eyes burn from smoke you blew in my face
sometimes I need a reminder and you give it to me
there’s a mosquito
It’s 7:20am and I never get up this early but you’re not here
I smack myself over and over
that’s how I fall like a forgetful feminist
and forgetting and forgetting and forgetting I will cum the moment
I picture you standing against the wall so cool
you like the way I move and that’s strange
I’ve always felt my ass was too flat
I slap myself again
the mosquito in my ear is dead or I’m
bleeding I don’t know I hope I’m bleeding
(I think about you fucking me wherever you want)
it’s been over a month
There’s a ringing in my ear
the phone stopped ringing yesterday (it’s not the phone)
(and like a good feminist I feel like shit)
I’ve never had it in the ear before
and I am waking again
to the thought of coming on your cock
and the mosquitoes are back, fucker
This poem is the result of a combination of two journal entries: one about my ex-boyfriend and another about my current boyfriend. The parts about loss refer to the former, the parts about sex, the latter. I write in my journal about sex and loss a lot because those are the two things I feel I have experienced most in my life. Although I don’t think of myself as a poet, I like the idea of taking things written in my journal and turning them into little crystal-like objects that I can observe, neatly, and throw away. I am currently in a loving 24/7 BDSM relationship.This is my first published poem.
note: I’ve started this feature up as a kind of homage and alternative (a companion series, if you will) to the incredible work Alex Dimitrov and the rest of the team at the The Academy of American Poets are doing. I mean it’s astonishing how they are able to get masterpieces of such stature out to the masses on an almost daily basis. But, some poems, though formidable in their own right, aren’t quite right for that pantheon. And, so I’m planning on bridging the gap. A kind of complementary series. Enjoy!
Tags: Lillian Dylan, Poem-A-Day
I really like this poem. Those first two lines kill me.