SWEET STARVATION

suckling on cigarettes
to soften the cries
teasing
empty stomachs, full
of sadness
chasing each drag
with coffee like shots of
alcohol, I am drunk
on this sweet starvation
destroying mind,
body, and so
much more
as reminders ring
in my mind
like church bells
don’t eat,
don’t eat,
don’t eat

 

 

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann
© NOTA, Fall 2015

how pathetic

that the pinnacle of
my life thus far
could be described
like thank you cards
nothing i can achieve
i cannot own

and swollen are
my feelings towards you
itching for a
diagnosis
wanting to be sick
because that means
i can be fixed

so scribble gently
on my body
notes that fill me
falling, falling
failing me the clock
that never moves

digitize
so there’s no error
still i live
my life in terror
worrying
i can’t change what i’ve done

 

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann

Donald Trump

today i woke up while it was still dark
and watched the sky grow pink to blue
and since the moon was full last night
i charged my crystals too

i sat inside a bubble bath
when my rituals were done
and even though it snowed last week
today i got to see the sun

i journaled on for hours
and it made my soul feel clear
and manifested as if my dreams were
already here

which made today a good day
where i felt much less depressed
but then i remembered Donald Trump
is my president

 

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann

what life is this?

city
girl
talks too much
or not at all
perma uppers
roller coaster ride
fun house
full
of
terror

honey mustard
for
the fries
a drive thru
on a Saturday
sleep in
avoiding pain
November
finds
20 degrees

the bank clock
running
fast at Frandsen
flashing
from the curb
at Culvers
voodoo dolls
it was a gift
from
New Orleans

i said
i want Lolita
we got
Zombieland
instead

what life is this?
i thought
it was
oh, how i
have been mistaken

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann

control

you brought pain into my life
but that’s what taught me how to read it
i don’t know if i should hate you
when you gave me what i needed

like the sweet smell of the flower
with the stem that draws your blood
that’s what winter does to my face
with the air that clears my lungs

skin that rots and peels away
while it purifies my insides
even with the motor vehicles
blowing chemicals outside

for so long i inhaled nicotine
snug inside tobacco sticks
what’s the harm i start to wonder
when so much damage is already done

at least this part is
out of my control

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann

happiness makes me numb

so it happens that happiness
makes me numb
thoughts that start
while sitting at
the Village Court Apartments
the beauty was the art of it
watching the sadness peak
i couldn’t speak from so much shaking
a masterpiece
completed now it seems
that i am just a set of paints
it’s paining me to feel
this way but turn another cheek
and say goodbye
forever but you never
see me cry
the ending of a movie
the sadness in my eye
that make me alive like razors
slicing through the skin
it brings me back to earth
when happy feels like sin

 

 

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann