It aches, the starving part. Spurns the practised gossamer curled gentle onto balanced bone. It’s a swollen, mottled curse —broad and malignant— slipping sweetly in vein. The arrhythmia of nearly but never not quite, still too round-thick, spilling everywhere. Feed it, the starving. Stuff it to bursting with scales and counting, fuller and fuller until…
Tag: Poetry
A Sickness
It’s in the way we bloomed togetherand in the way that we fell apart:Wound tightly and scraping against the softest parts as we’d claw and lick and sting to soothe. All that’s left now are the ugliest parts. The looming shadow of two naked vultures circling each other in anticipation, plucking out feathers to keep…
for love of butterflies
In order to loveI havesurrendered the part of myselfwith the softest and most delicateskin. A simple touch will bruise andif the nails are sharp they cancomfortablytear it apart. Mine is a prayerwhispered quietly intomirrored hands. Yours isan explosivebursting with the potential toscatter me.
Lamb to Slaughter
I set my heart between your teethto fulfill Delphic prophecy;slit my throat and slowly bledwhile chanting prayers in my head. Gouged out my offending eyesto strip off pretense and disguise,set them at your burning alter—these first sins of Adam’s daughter. When was it that I misspoke?What ancient rite did you invoketo carve me up as…
Stranger, Stranger
In truth, it starts to ache at times— The wear and tear of all these years stripped and laid bare eventually. Anchored at first by steady hands, rough sand smoothed into fragile gems that stem and then flower beautifully. Was it then that we first learned to lie? Blinding words of trust and submission as…
Reason to Stay
because I am born and I die in the open and close of your eyes — in that dream there is hope for a love more beautiful than this
The River
There is a river beside the trees that flows around the broken glass and hurries through the trays of ash that choke the birds and fumble words and smother all the roses. It winds around the crumbling brick, surging past half-painted walls and echoing through empty halls to wane and crash break back and splash…
Howl
A hundred thousand years ago before the first man’s rise, I chanced upon a trickster fox that promised me the nighttime skies. It led me to an empty field With its tail wound ‘round my wrist, “A simple trade” it said to me, “None but the foolish would resist.” “Look up,” whispered the fox to…
Rush
The calendar ink is not yet dry and the days have begun to blur.
02:37
Look only at me. Need only me And in return, I will carve Your name into my bones. I am yet to discover if this is love or Madness.
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