Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
mia-zanette-1
mia-zanette-1
American
Pulling the softened irises From the mud in the darkened yard. Pulling the statued eyes From the window that is barred. The night the air made way For the golden mountain love song Whose lyrics stung “God save! Sing lonely! She’ll be gone long.” But the empty field rang silence Beneath the pleading marsh Clipping shoulders ‘gainst the fences Where the neighbors began the march.
0
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Fences
We dragged the bodies down the wrong side of the road And stacked their bones like an exhibit behind museum glass. I remember our hands were too cold to light our cigarettes So we held them above the bumper of our redhanded Chevy, Breathing white air onto our fingers around a campfire of exhaust. Somewhere down the way a lone bird cried a primal warning. The ground hummed with distant wheels on gravel moving quickly. Our lofty shoelaces chained our shoes to our feet; frozen to the scene. Chewing nails down to skin, wrapping scarves like nooses around our necks- You were the cops, we were the robbers. You were the prisoner, we were the jail. Hands crossed for icy handcuffs though none had come yet So we tied our frosted breath tight inside our shivering body bags.
0
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
Criminal
"You're gonna die in there," He calls down into his heart but it's comfy between his heartstrings so I pretend not to hear him. We took down the Sunday death toll And laid down to sleep together but the sound of the freeway rushing past the window interrupted our dreams that night. Swollen hands that beat broken hearts "You're going to die in there" but my shoe is stuck in the doorway so I can't seem to leave. Then he asked if I poisoned his tea. I told him he was the only poison I set before my nightstand and lathered my lips with like balm. I was drenched in his blood. But he wanted to pull me out so he could hold me again so he could pick out the gravel. Cleaning his wounds, I asked him to **** me. **** me.
0
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 11:32 PM UTC
In the Bottom of the Well