There is something spooky about me.
I am certain of it.
Or else why does the thought of you
dying for me,
somehow slightly perk me up.
Better yet,
I'll admit I can not sleep soundly
next to a steady rock
while my thoughts try to dog-paddle
away from this
tugging undertow.
It was at first just tickling my toes
but now it is
Lashing my bare skin
with it's seaweed colored
tongue of deceit and saying
"I would die for you,
I would die for you,
I've never forgotten you."
Ok, I'll finally admit it,
I'm a little bored with
cutting off the crusts
and filling a wine glass
full of milk.
I want the steady rock
to lie on top me and
crush my ribcage,
over and over.
And instead I give
in to sinking my
eager fingers and
neglected teeth
into the hairy peach
slowly sipping out
all of the hidden parts of me
until they go straight to my head.
And it swells like an over ripened
balloon.
POP
Give me the sound,
Pull me under
Drag me down
I want to remember
what it is to drown.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
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to have sticky pins for fingertips and ballpoint pens for thumbs. then I could fascinate myself to you, and write away doldrums.
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July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
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our silence comes easy and there is much to it the commingling of our fingers and the swapping of palm oils and the nimble saltation of ...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
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Rain, dearest friend. You know just when to pound on my head. I know there is more to this world, than what I have given from inside myself....
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
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husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
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The ache in my jaw reminds me of my age, that I'm still cutting teeth on broken sage and giving up meat is my best bet, because I'm ...
ooh, feeling this one! love the bit about the wine glass... <3
ReplyDelete:) I posted this in dark_pens Suzy's comm. for "dark poetry". Thanks for the read <3
ReplyDeleteThis one makes me really sad... Like, really, really sad...
ReplyDelete"I want the steady rock
to lie on top me and
crush my ribcage,
over and over."
it's a sad one, my dearest friend.
ReplyDelete