Monika Thelen


she believes in certainty

and purity

or at least she used to

she used to believe in blinding light

she used to be unable to look away


or maybe

that was just a fantasy

a fantasy of purity

where really there was none


she has many fantasies, you know

of which very few are pure

in any sense of the word


secretly, she craves

and craves and craves

she tastes and tastes the darkness


but she tells no one, not really

she has convinced herself that she knows better

all high and mighty with her angel wings

playing out her fantasies of helping the helpless


well, she may know better

but I know no such thing

she's been strung tight for far too long

I say we get out and have some fun

I speak and she listens, entertains my ideas


I want molten fire, a shield against the odds

those chemicals that raise such hell

light shining forth from veins and eyes

a mirror trying to reflect god


but she doesn't want armor for sleeping alone

the chemical cold or the needle's dull drone

she says she could never hope to come home


I want the frantic dark

the bite of the needle

the chase and hide out in dark cars

ally ways and streets that no one likes to see

but I see them, and they see me

we greet each other so fondly

each remembering the good times

somehow I think I've memorized

every blood-spattered wall in all of these towns


but she fights me at every turn

she tells me the only way she will burn

will be in the arms of one she loves

but we both know how she picks at her scars

the imperfections in her skin

not to be perfect-just to give in

to the need to hurt, and hurt herself


in the end, though, we agree

and there is one thing we both love

one thing that will set us free

we give the same addictive plea


pleasure, grant me purity

so maybe I can find some peace

send me heat and fire in waves

and then someone to make me tame

make me stay until I scream

and fall back into rough-hewn sheets

falling back until I freeze

until, finally, I can sleep

fading from my memories

and thoughts that I just can't escape

make me mindless as I shake

make me whole now as I quake


for as the line between us blurs

as her denial and my ferocity merge

it's good to have a common goal

at least some hope of becoming whole

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790