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Literature Text
He would lie beside me under sheets and
I would run my fingers across his skin
To feel the scars from years gone past;
I could understand the history
Of each brittle bone in his body
By the raising of his ribs.
His heart beat beneath my fingertips
And I could feel the centuries it had hammered through;
His lips were just as raw as the rest of him,
But were softer than anything else.
Each night before I slept,
I would read him like braille.
I would run my fingers across his skin
To feel the scars from years gone past;
I could understand the history
Of each brittle bone in his body
By the raising of his ribs.
His heart beat beneath my fingertips
And I could feel the centuries it had hammered through;
His lips were just as raw as the rest of him,
But were softer than anything else.
Each night before I slept,
I would read him like braille.
Literature
self worth
Wanting for nothing
this budding rose
ready to wilt
along the stripped creek.
She's an arm's length
away, her taint some exposed
cove braving the sea
carved against the grain
of turning oceans.
Literature
instructions on never falling out of love
invent countless scenarios where pieces
fall into places and you fall into
his arms.
rip your chest up with bitten nails,
scourge your insides with laser-sharp
self-homing
precision-guided missiles
of unending scrutiny:
what's missing, what's missing,
what's missing.
discard fictions, soft-spoken and faceless.
you've met the real deal
and he doesn't want you.
write songs, write
this poem,
write, sing, remember
old melodies
of the broken loves of your youth.
tell yourself every bit of pain that had
passed through you before
carved a perfect spot
for this love to fill.
tell yourself, you loved him before you met him.
what you've learnt to
Literature
you're ruining your teeth
i think i
lost my way with words -
maggot-skulled,
i've unlearned imagery
or:
13 cavities
rotting to
bone-crowns &
starvation-poetry
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yaaay, submission is fixed
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This is beautiful