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

headed home

i step out, Midwest December
beneath the falling snow
to walk down Lee Hill Boulevard
toward the place that holds my treasure
but the silence there is suffocating
even my breath begins too loud
so i must not stay for too long
before lifelines all turn flat, enjoyment
look up online beforehand
so i can leave in a hurry
with a book or two clasped in my hand
i am already headed home

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann

on a winter day

i walk outside
it’s ten degrees
shorts on and snow
against bare skin
a blessing

i’m so desperate to feel something

with coat and glove
too because i’m
not stupid

i’m just depressed and
i quit smoking
early last year
but it’s sure testing me
to be this way

like waves i got pulled under

i was on a high
a shocking suffocation

now i’m drowning underground
and to be cold is to be better
than feeling nothing

and i never thought
my biggest fear
would be to go inside

 

 

 

Angela Bachmann