kate-morganWhisper

English
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Artichoke HeartsI am an empty jar / of artichoke / hearts.
26
Oct 28, 2013
Straight lines (spoken poetry)My mother said we were different. / Round peg, square hole, / but you still put your red peg right through my chest
35
Oct 27, 2013
Trumpet Lungs (spoken poetry)My lungs are beating like they have swallowed my heart whole. / Divided on who she loved more, they choke my breath so I taste sour gummy bears as I curl over wounded, / a victim of one of loves ****** battles.
17
Oct 27, 2013
Words you should have heard. Dedicated to Kate Morgan, aged 8.Darling, you can be anything you want to be. / Just pick yourself like a chocolate. Admire the red foil that engulfs your small fingertips with that smile you do as the caramel swims between your rose tinted lips. / Pick yourself like a flower, like that snow drop the fairies plant every February under the apple tree, or that single rose that pricked your finger, the red one you once gave me.
7
Oct 27, 2013
English language (spoken poetry)There are 1,013,913 words in the English language, and not one of them describes how I feel about you, about us. / I used to say you were my strawberry jam, my little preserve that I would lay and spread on the table each morning, and I would lick my lips and say 'my God isn't she magnificent'. / I was your hero, your savior, your Christ that you had at Sundays Eucharist, and thank God you did. You dissolved in my mouth like that little piece of bread called a body but you tasted of everything instead of nothing, and **** me for thinking of you instead of God, thinking of you as my altar as I said 'hail Mary' and I worshiped you like a school girl with an orange full of candles in her hand, and for that God will **** me. He will **** me to hell but I don't care as the Universe lives under your tongue and everything I had ever dreamed of was right there in the right hand corner of your mouth.
11
Oct 27, 2013
Redemption (spoken poetry)Forgive me for the ink that strains your innocent purity with words I don't even understand. / Pick up your rubber and erase my right hand with swift flick of the wrist / and a gentle caress for you cannot forgive me for what I have done,
47
Oct 27, 2013
The AlchemistI met her in the parking lot of a liquor store one Friday night with my naked body hidden beneath a dressing gown. / I’d put it on whilst I finished the gin from my 20th birthday within my boyfriends closet as he drank his **** down in beer and asked why I was in the closet. / Impotent, it was a quick exit as I thanked the drink for making me able to ride my bike back minus the safety of a sanitary towel, without my **** left to think of his grunts and groans and his hands which branded my thighs as he fed me lies that it was just in the moment; his finger prints left signatures citing his latest triumph of lasting one hundred point thirteen seconds.
23
Jun 17, 2013
CuntrolI lost cuntrol when I was nine years old. / Mother took my hand off my crotch yet left my brother to the confinement of his **** / Girls good, boys bad, and oh no sweetheart your beauty is your only power.
36
Jun 16, 2013
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