My body may be a lady,
but that don't mean my bones are.
They run deeper then that.
My wrist bones carry all the pressure
i collected in my younger days;
it's why my wrist cracks every rotation.
My spine is a fourth grade art project
constructed of playdoh, plastic army men,
and those red segregated lunch trays.
My skeletal structure is contemporary,
a work of arts and crafts
held together by bits of yarn
my mother gave me to play with
before i even knew how to tie the knots
in my stomach.
Author notes
This is me
Just tell me what you think please
Comments
-
astonishing..
i really liked this write.. great imagery..

-
Wow
One of a kind ( : -
Okay, first of all, the title - AMAZING.
The first stanza: "but that don't mean my bones are", I'm not sure about that... it seems off to me. This may just be my grammar nazi deal, but yes.
Second stanza: stellar.
Third stanza: AMAZING, yet again. I especially loved "segregated lunch trays"/
I think in the final stanza, you might want to switch "my mother gave me to play with/ before I even know how to tie knots"
to "my mother gave me to play with/before i even knew how to tie the knots"
I think it would tie it up a little, plus, the missing word kind of throws off the flow.
Anyway, that's what I got.
Love ya Ginger Tits!

-
-
I love you! You are so rite about that last bit, it sounds so much better this way! And thank you you are so sweet!
-




