On the Floor

iim Bbleeding aagain.
iim Bbleeding aagain.
iim
Bbleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
ding  Aagain.
Bbleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
ding Aagain.
Mmind your manners.
Mmind your Phfunky ass Phfeet.
Mmind. do you Mmind?
you could at least say excuse me before slipping into me.
Ssinking into me.
sssickly me
how sick am I?
am I?
iim as Ssick as it comes.
iii cry on Ccue and Bbleed like I Ggot 2too much.
Wwho else Ggot 2too much Bblood?
WWho else Ssick of the Nneedles they keep Ppricking you with?
Yyou Pprick. All you Phfucking Ppricks.
how about I Pprick those Eeyes Oone Ttime.
2 time.
3 time.
let me Pprick you Cclean.
don’t Yyou Wwant to 
Bbleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
dd
Wwithmme?

This world that you live in.

Show me how to get there?

I cannot tell you, she says. 

I did not ask you to tell me, I say.

I cannot show you, she says.

You will, I say. 

I will not, she says.

You will show me because you are a map.
Because I took my robe off and you carved constellations.
Because you have no other reason not to.
Show me how to get there now. Show me how to get there         Now.
You have no other compass but me. 

I cannot, she says. 

I am broken, she says. World, no more.

It is not enough to read these words, you must drink them. Bear your teeth to me and I will not pluck my shreds from you. You taste me now. I’m swishing in your mouth. I’m stuck in your gap tooth. I’m stuck in your gap. I’m stuck in your Gap.

Why is it that all the places I’m afraid to go,
you’re already there?

Did I miss the gun?shot the?drums

You left me again.

And what about the gun? you ask.
the gun? I repeat.

the gun.

The gun is on my hip. but your hips are gone, you say.

They’re not gone, I just replaced them.
i replaced them with magazines 
serials 
more killers 
killers.

Check my right organ.
the right? you ask.
no, the left.

But you’re bleeding on the right, you say.
and I say I say I say
that’s right. 
And you say, I never left you,
you shot yourself
You shot           .
blanks.
b
lanks.
b
lanks.


Yazmenne Archer is a native-born Jersey girl, who has coincidentally never seen Jersey Girl. Still contending with labels, she is safe in the boxes of writer and poet. She hopes to slither her way into spoken word artist as she continues working on her first spoken word album that came to life during her time at CalArts obtaining her MFA. Navigating the themes of grief, loss, and address, self-reclamation is the ultimate object of her work. To Yazmenne, being an artist means to give to oneself as well as to others, and her work as a writer is only the first step in that direction.