poetry and prose

Little Girls by Rebecca Tillett

Little girls never dream of these days; these days complete with crack, needles, and whores. Fucking to survive, fucking to prove everyone wrong. Fucking to exude power, lust, SEX and immortality. I never dreamed of these days. I was going to be a ballerina, a writer, a photographer, a journalist for Christ's sake. I never hoped for days of cum, cheaters, and takers, blood, butchers, and criminals. Regular customers love me. They get what they want, they get their money's worth. Two knocks and a whisper and I'm in, out and paid in ten minutes. Seedy motels, middle class suburbia - it's all the fucking same. These dicks need a good fuck, I need my money and their wives their rebuttal, their denial, their status.

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The Words (book project/no. 2) by Rebecca Tillett

The words, the words trickled up from my throat
chitchaty insects careful not to misquote
declaring out loud what I’d previously wrote
The words, the words trickled up from my throat

The words, the words escaped from my mouth
dripping with moisture after the drought
like a companionless intentional crane flying south
The words, the words escaped from my mouth

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Hayseed Invasion by Rebecca Tillett

These little girls that rise from corn fields bold & busting at the
seams with hazy expectations unreceptive to the lives &
movements of those growing & dying before them.
Sallys, Emmys, & Maryanns they think they know it all, they
do. Proclamations of youth too ripe to pick but much too
mouthwatering to pass by. Tomorrow’s another day& another
day of bursting skulls and spoiled greens.

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You'll Never Live This Life That I Live. by Rebecca Tillett

I'm thinking I really have nowhere else to go. I'm thinking I've become that person. I'm thinking a lot lately about God, a god, another plane of existence, another dimension, an afterlife, everyone we ever loved - now gone. I'm thinking I could die at this very moment and every question I've ever really had could be answered. I'm thinking my bones are aching and you look exhausted. I'm thinking you have dark circles under your eyes and I'm covered in cuts and bruises. I'm thinking everything's always for looks, for appearances, I'm thinking rain always brings out the doubts and hopelessness in me - but I wouldn't give it up for anything else in the world. I'm thinking everyone's moving forward and I'm standing still. 

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Big Fish by Rebecca Tillett

Big fish in little pond will soon be swimming at sea
I was a human collage, with your name all over my arms. 
It took you years to realize they were talking about me
But it was just play pretend, never did any harm

You said I’m incapable of growing; smile
You were never good at coping with change
Or really a single thing that alters your lifestyle
I always did find it somewhat strange

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I Love the Desert in the Fall by Rebecca Tillett

Remember when we were young
little road-trips here and there
through Colorado in the summer, in the fall
driving home, going HOME
infinite blades of grass looking frail, dying.

to New Mexico
I love the desert in the fall
Makeshift crosses on every sharp bend
with names and years and "rest in peace" 
Bobcat workin' at the Chama Chevron
Old gas stations now libraries
and unfortunate cats and dogs in pieces
on the highway
Close your eyes, close your eyes.

Sometimes it's much too easy to look away.

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Little Miss by Rebecca Tillett

The old mill dies on top of the trash
Yet Little Miss hardly bats an eyelash
So much of that dirty shit has left a rash
Scrapes, bruises and whiplash

And so the royal civilian decides
After all he never took sides
Like a good little boy he always abides
By the rules, never mind the landslides

And so Little Miss dodges a threat ‘
cause she hasn’t touched that dang trash yet
Just thinkin’ about it gets her upset
Fucking pile always blocks the sunset

Royal civilian’s washed his hands of it all
Broken bottles, typewriter keys, toys and dolls
Couldn’t get it all done before nightfall
That old mill was nothing but an ugly catchall

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Piece of Me by Rebecca Tillett

You know me, every bit and piece of me
Every bit and piece of you speaks. Loudly
to me and you always know, you always knew
Though you never wanted to
You laughed, you played, you smiled
Not typically soft and mild
You were my eyes, my ears, my beating dripping heart
You were, from the start
from the very start of time
You, me, sweet sublime
I loved you all the time
Between love and hate, yesterday and tomorrow
I’ll love you in the meantime
You’re this and that, here and there
I’ll love you everywhere

Even when I’m not there

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This Virgin War by Rebecca Tillett

Because I need you smiling
& crying & dying on the inside & vying
& craving & paining & screaming
me, beaming & gleaming
because baby, I’m numb & sedated
if I’m not dreaming.

Because baby, you told me you loved me
& baby, I believed every word
but why wouldn’t I; it wasn’t absurd.
Every human ear had heard.

Because ears have legs
& scatter like plagues.

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You Can Make it Last, Forever You by Rebecca Tillett

I remember what it was like to feel;
to swallow, to heave.
I remember the sensation of sensation,
feeling satisfied at losing heart
because I was losing something,
because I was feeling something.

I remember the small-city-lit walls;
the orange glow igniting the dark black sky;
broken only by dancing glittered flecks.
The smoldering moon lighting my way.
I remember the wet grass against the soles of my feet,
laughing about nothing; running from nothing.

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Hello by Rebecca Tillett

“Sometimes he bangs his head against the wall until blood pours from his ears and delusions of what never was dance before his eyes and angry ghosts materialize.”

“It’s real. Hello. I can’t feel…no." She’s never satisfied. She was never satisfied. She’s never happy. She’s never in love. She never loved me. She sliced her throat. She can’t leave me alone. She’s watching me. She’s never happy

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