Always Messing with them Boys
Jessica Helen Lopez              

Two Weeks Into the Break

I have become courageous with my solemnity
face like a dried peach pit, the set jaw I show
off in the brackish noisy public I have come to disdain
like a vampire shopping for milk, eyes like red-rimmed lasers
gut-wrenching cramps from unintentional fasts and snot rags
avalanche from the couch as I twist in my sleep ?

I burn like a skinless fish on the frying pan
dance, little minnow, dance like the dead thing you are
I have acquired the bravado to become a true martyr
I crack my knuckles like peanut shells, I make nonsequitor
jokes at the television and cry when I masturbate
this poem isnft even funny
and I tried

two weeks into the break then fate said,
gHerefs a healthy dose of menstrual cramps
a week earlier than you expected. Bleed mammal.h
I cried when I saw the blood on my panties
it was about to get worse before it got worse

I am talented with this game of pyrotechnics
a close cousin to chaos, swimming with needles
burning sage like a cosmic hippie trying to
smoke away his figment of bad odor

two weeks into the break and I break
the lining of my uterus unfurling into another
reminder that I will never have his children
that you canft take back abortions

but nightwalkers donft carry wombs with them
only restless midnight grocery coupons, fangs
sharpened on another life they never lived,
the last body they sucked clean

they idle in the shampoo aisle, pay their
bills behind two-sizes too-big black sunglasses
a Jackie O. before she turned Marilyn
a Marilyn before she fell to sleep for always

the first week of break up is a serial killer
the second week is a post office shoot-up
the third a new abberation I will sink myself into,
next week proudly flashing my badge

waiting for the sun to burn me awake