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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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
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like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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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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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
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sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
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Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
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