publicsqualor - Hello Poetry

I see the shadow of a long dead girl, gun in the arms, cradled and braced at her face. I drip sweat, as these four walls light up with images. Viscous memories want my attention, and they won't ask at all for all they take. Past is over. All girls are dead girls. I'm a woman, now. Finger pulled back, bullet to the skull of a native in a native's land, made strange with loud strangers' demands, blood blown back decorates my young hands, my masters lift me up an echelon. A portal opens in my bedroom that leads to the bathroom sink, where I swallow pink pills. Swallow white pills. Swallow blue pills.

0

Aug 5, 2017

Aug 5, 2017 at 2:53 AM UTC

Viscous Memories

I see the shadow of a long dead girl, gun in the arms, cradled and braced at her face. I drip sweat, as these four walls light up with images. Viscous memories want my attention, and they won't ask at all for all they take. Past is over. All girls are dead girls. I'm a woman, now. Finger pulled back, bullet to the skull of a native in a native's land, made strange with loud strangers' demands, blood blown back decorates my young hands, my masters lift me up an echelon. A portal opens in my bedroom that leads to the bathroom sink, where I swallow pink pills. Swallow white pills. Swallow blue pills.

13

I'm having fun playing dead while I'm keeping my head straight. Is that hilarious or what? What's funny, is I'd rise for the right hurt. You've detached yourself, though. Your words sound like grey sleep within the walls I repaint, day after day when I wake, with the color you turn away yet still absorb, like there's no short supply. My brain works for crackers and runs on want that's begun drying.

0

Jul 24, 2017

Jul 24, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC

Surplus Supply Gone Dry

I'm having fun playing dead while I'm keeping my head straight. Is that hilarious or what? What's funny, is I'd rise for the right hurt. You've detached yourself, though. Your words sound like grey sleep within the walls I repaint, day after day when I wake, with the color you turn away yet still absorb, like there's no short supply. My brain works for crackers and runs on want that's begun drying.

6

After a day spent knee deep in debt, I retire to morning, to bed, to basement It's there, cotton warmth, jersey in Summer, Summer's here sitting with me tonight, cross legged, near **** Summer is a dude, I swear to God, I know his scent. It's like at the store at 10 PM, it's the putrid musk infiltrating me through my eyes, my nose, my tongue, my tender throat. After a day spent knee deep in debt, I retire to morning, to bed, to basement to wait for morning and her gentle rays so I may rise from my concrete tomb, a revenant, for you, dripping my dreams, eaten nearly to death, to fulfill this debt.

0

Jul 21, 2017

Jul 21, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC

Less Hot Than Last

After a day spent knee deep in debt, I retire to morning, to bed, to basement It's there, cotton warmth, jersey in Summer, Summer's here sitting with me tonight, cross legged, near **** Summer is a dude, I swear to God, I know his scent. It's like at the store at 10 PM, it's the putrid musk infiltrating me through my eyes, my nose, my tongue, my tender throat. After a day spent knee deep in debt, I retire to morning, to bed, to basement to wait for morning and her gentle rays so I may rise from my concrete tomb, a revenant, for you, dripping my dreams, eaten nearly to death, to fulfill this debt.

26

If that will be that, then breathe it while it lasts. We could have grabbed each others' hands and stretched our existence, turned time's fabric to our bed and blanket, but this is it, as I feel your sweat and sweet breath I prepare to feel the repeat sequence, I repeat it The empty smile spreads cheek to cheek She's beside me in splendid silence, I whisper my regret over driving such high speeds, when I know for a fact, the road and its changeless dangers to her saintly, sleeping form. I'm sleepless.

0

Jul 20, 2017

Jul 20, 2017 at 7:41 PM UTC

Repeat Sequence

If that will be that, then breathe it while it lasts. We could have grabbed each others' hands and stretched our existence, turned time's fabric to our bed and blanket, but this is it, as I feel your sweat and sweet breath I prepare to feel the repeat sequence, I repeat it The empty smile spreads cheek to cheek She's beside me in splendid silence, I whisper my regret over driving such high speeds, when I know for a fact, the road and its changeless dangers to her saintly, sleeping form. I'm sleepless.

23