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  • Writer's pictureVanessa Aricco

for death as in life

poems from my 20s

for death as in life

we choose sorrow

and suffer for love

I'm going to write. I am going to write today. I am going to write something that jumps off the page today. I am going to write. I am going to write what I know. I’m going to write what I don’t know. I’m going to write what I wish I knew. Before. Before the red wine was spilled on the carpet stairs and the white wall, before I called the cops. Before you called my dad, when he was in Vegas. Before he knew we were at his house, with the cat. Before I coldly said goodbye, it was over. Before I made you drive away to your psychiatrist appointment in your moms car. Before I wouldn't even let you touch me. Again. Again you got drunk. Again you got high after eating that hamburger you could barely see. Again I screamed at you. Again you let me down and you were confused and I didn't even know what I was angry about anymore. I was just angry, again, at you.

Untitled 1

I'm having a love affair with his infidelity

I'm having a love affair with his whores

A psychogenic affair with his addictions

His hotel uterine world

Untitled 2

The angels of hell fly with me

My gypsy love found mystic worlds

Rebel minds

My saints



Born from my hysteria

I bear my sons

My lovers

Extensions of myself

I'm reflecting dreams of us

A Lingering Departure

I can feel you standing behind me

As I wash my glasses in the kitchen sink

And I start to cry as I think of us

Sitting on the hardwood kitchen floor

Putting the kitchen table together

We are listening to Miles Davis

Miles apart

I cried when I was with you

And I cry now when I'm alone

Untitled 3

I'll tell the tale of many men

Enough for me to trace my story back to you

I'll forget them

No names to speak

And tie your name around my neck

For if I lose it I lose you

To lose my mind

No memory left to have

They've taken me

Oh Cannibals!

They're eating me alive


I will trace the bloody trail back to them

And remind them what fear is

Untitled 4

I loved him but

I dreaded the damp warm mattress

Where his body laid

I felt the vibrations of his weights






The womb would not rot

Fondled and forgotten

This face of mine’s in season

Have a glass and prepare for blindness

Untitled 5

Down before the waterfalls

The stranger wants to know

Where his thirsty lovers mouth will go

And all the running lines will guide

Fitted hands reigned to die

Untitled 6

Take down those boxes

And give me back my room

The one I filled with thoughts of you

I never got them back

I never wanted this

You forgot your courtesy

And I

Forgot myself

Untitled 7

Whatever can be written

Can stand

Side by side

But never touching

I'll never know your existence

Other than my own

Sudden racking of

Mind's loathsome home

I've lost hope

And dreams of you

Left on empty street corners

I got tired of waiting on a memory

Night's dreary promise

To and end of an ideal

Untitled 8

Beggars in the graveyard

Trying to exchange

Empty hands for warm coffins

The quiet night sneaks up on you

Love and Death

Walking down the beggars hall

Aisles of time stand still

Watching one think it's two

There is a chimera in town

Knocking at your door

Untitled 9

Knit the round that follows us

Transfixed beyond the lust

Inspired by the written word

Anticipated visual worlds

Drawn close by tragedy

In love we found our ruby glasses

Custom made from vinyl ashes

A deeper look proved to show

In love I lost control

Through fears and anxious pasts

I ripped the seams that paved the way

Beyond the house of horrors

I fed the beast that struck the walls

Behind the mind that lures

Our hearts that fought to find

Its match in modern times

Tucked inside this maddened cave

Still found love beyond the grave

The Drip

I wanted to lick up the intoxicating smell

Of sad metallic misery

As it dripped down his lifeless arm

Blank stare

I know there's love in there

But I can not journey down that lonely road

No room for both our darkness

And I require more than she'll allow him to give

I'll remember his touch

I'll remember his kiss

I'll remember the smell

Of sad metallic misery


I'll miss

Untitled 10

There's a blood stain on my comforter

In the shape of a perfect heart

That bleed from his open track

Leaving his mark

His love,

Still to give

Though weighted


Pushed inside

It still bled through

Reminding me he's still here

The only real sign I've got

A bloody mark from a junkie’s arm

My devotion

To the wounded

There is a blood stain on my comforter

One with no real shape

Just a mess that bled

From my open womb

Leaving my fertile mark, unplanted

I refuse to stop the bleeding

Untitled 11

No one wants a prisoner

A hand that ties them down

Leave thoughts of you

With room for me

I love you

Let's get married

And sleep on solid ground

Untitled 12

It's a lonely place to dwell

Feeding on a distant past

I've grown to know so well

My place in time does not remind

My heart to follow through

The spaces left between the words

That left me in a displaced world

I am left alone

To know

That only suiting lovers

Lived once


Long ago

I need a partner in times

So rough I cannot carry myself

Or the burden that awaits

Beyond the morning sun

I scream in silence

And pray it will be heard

I did not do it to feel fucked up. I did it to feel, what I thought to be, normal. Drugs. To quiet the bellowing of my mind. I was trying to function the best way I knew how in the uncontrollable situation I was placed in. Life. Always searching for a place that manifested physically to match what was inside this mind. Lost. I had complete conviction for this singular notion. Love. And searched dark corners in hopes of finding its match. When dark corners failed, I sought bright ones, fabricated belied ones and reached far for hocus pocus déjè vu ones. All corners lead to the same fallow field. Alone.


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