holed up in the closet like Margot Tenenbaum
cigarettes, underwear, choice of entertainment
Howl appetizer then on to Bukowski, a
mockingbird on fire
cigarettes tinged with candy cane sweetness
they begin to taste like food, this all
the meal i need
because my thighs are still fat - as I
made the blade remind me for the coming
days, successfully and unsuccessfully cutting
scraping and drawing closer to death
inching closer to strangers with mischievous
eyes and wonderful hearts but not watchful
enough as they're flung to the heavens
hoping to be caught by some curvy angel
some promiscuous frail soul to manipulate
in bed in streets in dark closets on floors in texts
and still hiding somewhere in stores on
couches in crowded rooms flooded by
poems of tomorrow and long lists of relationship
criteria for the masses dissolved in a
defeated ship
head aching for something the pills can't
cure water can't quench something
beyond cigarettes and transcending into
lucid dream world letters into hungry
ripping panties an ache further than caffeine
further than clouds' billowy sway trek
unrelenting in sleep and stained sheets
pounding pounding pounding away at the innards
of brain and stomach acid
music to drown out and clap away the rain
punch and pull the pain crash wave against
wave and fall asleep in the world's corner
grass dead and growing rising in vapor to
bring joy to others more deserving
About Me
- alia
- "too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."
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1 comment:
so...
honest...
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