heavy metal

the fall
the heavy

i crunch like leaves under your feet

the wind

pull me apart and watch me weep

my brain
i thought that

you could make me feel so complete

my bad
my mistake

i was so dumb i could not see




Angela Bachmann


only everything

but puke it back
a full belly
my charity

lack of sleep
my heavy head
the weight of sin
no medicine

hate myself
no self control
my floors are dirt
so is my soul

god loves the poor
what happens if
he is no more

no blenders
to mix the sky
my universe
weather the curse

a prisoner
the social cure

paintings for
religious pleas
though art can hurt
i’m pleasure free

recite prayers
my hands are tied
it was like sex
but we both died

i am so many things
i do the best i can
only a boy
only a girl
i’m only everything

how can you still ask me for more





Angela Bachmann


romanticize the criticism
looking outward for forgiveness
thinking that redemption really
isn’t in your greatest interest

on your knees but you’re on praying
switching sides like contemplating
you never bought a map
you didn’t know that you were navigating

life’s a trip looking for a ride, my brain
a vehicle that left my memories outside
i found them in a ditch one day
now i have nothing left to hide

i guess i didn’t want them with me
donate while i’m feeling thrifty
my soul was only made with so much space
i think i grew too full




Angela Bachmann

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
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

so there’s no error
still i live
my life in terror
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?

talks too much
or not at all
perma uppers
roller coaster ride
fun house

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

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

i said
i want Lolita
we got

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




Angela Bachmann


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