-
it hurt a little
when his hands
-
I just want it to all stop
-
my neighbors are smoking fiends.
and sometimes, well not anymore,
-
oh momma, why'd you burn the house down?
why'd you leave ash's ghost wandering round town?
-
he can go fuck himself for all I care. maybe take that steak knife
-
I'd imagine the countryside,
filled with olive trees
-
well, I guess doing organic chemistry homework for fun
is not your typical friday night out
-
the peach sitting on the radiator
was teeming with bacteria culture
-
excitement peered out of her eyes
when they stared down at her abdomen,
-
the robin outside
fell off its perch,
-
withered and washed out
I am a 1914 baby,
-
-
and some say she ruined her life.
but really, all that happens is that she's queen
-
-
working on the last couple stanzas. they're awkward.
-
his heart sobbed
and veins burst
-
I saw him in the sandbox
regurgitating his insides,
-
it was one of those realities written by beckett
where everything is simple
-
it says 145 lines. but I promise there's A LOT of spaces. it's only about like 60. and like 2 words per line.
-
it's when I'm happy
that I know something is wrong
-
it's called an insecurity
when you try to learn
-
it's when you don't understand
-
you took the belt
and whipped me raw,
-
-
I want to believe that the ultimate
judgment will be
-
so I'm thinking
of nothing important
-
she sat, cradling her diseased womb.
fingertips propped within her armpits
-
-
murky water is
clouding my nerves
-
we kick gravel around
with hands in pockets
-
-
it was calculative and cold,
seemingly endless
-
if I told you I was ready for love
you would probably just laugh
-
-
-
thunder
shouted obscenities
-
we are the fallen ones --
dreaming about trust and red marrow
-
-
he says:
your eyes are failing
-
this shouldn't be considered a poem. sry for putting you through this 
e t o i l e
-
she walked on ashes,
not clouds.
-
ostentatious rubies
fall from her hips
-
-
wildflowers snake around ankles
grasping tendons and ligaments
-
they were pushing
and shoving
-
and there are days when I feel nothing
absolutely nothing
-
when she died
I forgot how to breathe.
-
-
once I carried a Cloud in my palms.
-
the dirt encrusted flesh
of a newborn child
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