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Literature Text
lover has more friends than i do,
which isn't hard as all those i have are
stretched across oceans and their
power is washed and watered down
chipped at from salt spray
or the winds
and i think for the what i wish
was the first time that this wound
of mine is a curse
it aches and it holds and it
creates mountains and peaks
in body and mind
that i can't soothe
that i can't control.
his manliness is more stable
than my womanhood.
he can eject
or reject or hold oceans within thicker skin
than i have on any part of me.
i break and split
and bleed.
oh god do i bleed.
which isn't hard as all those i have are
stretched across oceans and their
power is washed and watered down
chipped at from salt spray
or the winds
and i think for the what i wish
was the first time that this wound
of mine is a curse
it aches and it holds and it
creates mountains and peaks
in body and mind
that i can't soothe
that i can't control.
his manliness is more stable
than my womanhood.
he can eject
or reject or hold oceans within thicker skin
than i have on any part of me.
i break and split
and bleed.
oh god do i bleed.
Literature
thyroidal cartilage
i held a bird between my hands,
swallow's throat twitching in laryngeal spasms.
when i whispered gently,
lips millimeters from its ear,
'you are mine; there is nothing you can do'
it struggled, beak clicking like talon-fingernails on porcelain
i didn't mean to let it free, i swear.
it beat me back with a single shining look;
beaded gaze bruising, breaking capillaries and
bringing blood to the surface.
i would have gotten a black eye if i wasn't careful.
i wasn't.
careful, i mean. i was never careful.
with mirrored eyes i watched it fly,
wings beating in time to my heart.
my breath was a cloud of smoke,
droplets condensing
Literature
vices.
there's hell in your eyes, painting them black cesspits that could eat away the stars.
you tell me you need out of your head. the moon pulls higher in the sky, quietly marking the hour. our feet hang over empty air, the tracks below an open casket. you inhale nicotine and exhale burning buildings. smoke curls like fingers into the body of the night.
we're breaking like an ocean. eggshells on pavement.
i can't hold you together,
so you down handfuls of little white pills like peppermint candies.
like if you just keep swallowing, they'll whitewash the walls of your ribcage and purge your dirty heart.
you drink like you're always thirs
Literature
I Never Called Myself a Poet
Somewhere, out
past the
sky,
there''s a
mountain-
No, no
that's not
right.
Somewhere, out
hiding in the
stars,
the answers can
be found-
Nope.
Somewhere, lost
inside my
head,
there's a
way-
Not even.
Maybe,
one day
I'll
figure out
what I was
looking for
in
the first place.
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stupid feelings
and stupid womanly-ness.
and stupid womanly-ness.
© 2012 - 2024 ohsparrowsong
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Beautiful