FANZINE

after so many deaths,
a pursuit of life instead
i tell everyone I’m not fucking
& they laugh & sigh & roll their eyes
will I find happiness in a convent?
is such a hetero normative question
think of sor juana & all the men who
read “God” when she meant “girl”
my favorite vibrator
brings me endless little deaths
my flesh was torn
after you opened a mortal wound
my brambles can’t take any more beatings
we’re all just bouncing around on this carousel together
every time I say I’m good
I mean I’m not
only 37 people have seen me cry
I mean really cry
the b43 keeps stopping
every time someone makes eye contact
i know they sees my eyeliner’s smudged
i’ll cry out if we stop again
i need to keep going always
even though i might die
i open up tumblr & an anon says
your writing is so full of loneliness
are you lonely?
fuck you anon you don’t even know me

—————–

_{Ruby Brunton is a New Zealand-raised writer, poet and performer who now lives in Brooklyn. She’s had poems in 4 Poets, Hobart, Witchcraft and Metatron where she is the New York coordinator, and essays in Hazlitt, Real Life, The New Inquiry and Mask Magazine where she is a contributing editor. She spends a lot of time thinking about intimacy, resistance, how to create community and education alternatives. Find her on twitter & tumblr @rubybrunton.}