A Poem by A. J. Huffman
I opened my eyes and I screamed
so loud I turned my skin
inside out. Forcing
the blood I had left to the surface.
Once I was painted, I was silent.
There was nothing else to say.
You could not ignore me any longer.
I was a spot, a sore, a scab.
You had to pick me.
You had to make me
your own.
A Poem by A. J. Huffman
I buried myself up to my chin
in the hollow flesh of men
who were all too happy to sacrifice
for the cause. Then I colored my hair
with their eyes. And my lips,
well, I believe they speak for themselves.
Still I lacked the heat to hold
your attention. So I left
my scars. But I never realized they formed
a map. Too late, I followed
you instead.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Until I could not breathe
for anything but the pulse
of your blood.
––from her chapbook Audition from Hell
http://bookonblog39.blogspot.com/
A Poem by A. J. Huffman
I shove chairs in my mouth
for your comfort
and my convenience.
My knees are not meant to support
us both.
Relax,
let me welcome you in my own way.
My tongue
is made to conform
to your specific dimensions.
–from her chapbook Audition from Hell
http://bookonblog39.blogspot.com/
A Poem by A. J. Huffman
was a bullshit dead end. 3,472 miles past
the point where I lost my patience
with its pot-holed I’m-gonna-break-more-
than-your-car attitude, not to mention
its completely incomprehensible backwoods
draw. Fed up, I stopped the car, got out,
pissed in the middle for spite,
turned around and walked
back to the familiar,
welcoming Hell from which
I came.
A Poem by A.J. Huffman
I thought if I looked deep enough
into his eyes I could see the future.
But lies layered in smiles are
the only stars in that particular showing.
And I have never held a proclivity
for astronomy. I am my own
astronaut. Floating. Uninhibited
in an atmosphere of self-suffocation.
I breathe — only inside
the poison of my own mind.
A uniquely designed antidote
for the exquisite fairy-kissed mouths
of beach-born boys playing
at being a god.
A Poem by A.J.Huffman
Bloodflowers bloom.
Like rain.
In my eyes,
they shine.
In yours,
they die.
In touches,
they fall.
For,
through,
and over.
Disappearing.
Into the shattered reflection.
Of a pool
nobody will ever name:
Us.
A Poem by A.J. Huffman
She who could not keep her skin on
fell through herself.
Twice a night.
And came back.
Drunk.
From the sensation.
Much like drowning
in the open air.
And she wanted to share her joy.
With the dawn.
But she turned too far.
Forgot the top.
And ended up
three feet shy.
Of her mark.
A Poem by A.J. Huffman
Is sanity’s coin really the only option?
Flip me
off the edge;
over myself;
into another space . . .
Under construction
is the lie I sew
across my chest.
It fools no one.
They can see the shiny
neon on the collar that labels me: wrong.
And no amount of angel cloth or scrubbing
bubbled bleach can change their stare.
So I taught myself to scale anxiety
like a map. I duck and dive through cracks
in their perception. From behind I am building
a masque for their world. Contorting the eyes
to suit my vision. Still our looks don’t quite click.
(No surprise, I am my own/only locks key).
Which leaves me dangling on the periphery,
trying to decide which clause I should slip
into the stream to carve my version
of a smile into/over/through even the cloud-
iest of eyes.
A Poem by A.J. Huffman
I want to give him this peace
of my mind.
I want to cover him with it.
So that his eyes
as well as his skin
may feel my indifference.
So solid.
He cannot break its reign.
And it’s raining.
Behind his eyes now.
Not mine
as he had planned.
Too bad.
Too late.
Tomorrow he will drown.
Under nothing more
than the weight
of my unforgotten name.