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 Oct 2019 liz
fm
i’m a step latter.
i’m kept between your fridge and the wall and barely make appearances.
you only take me out when you need to reach the cereal from the top cupboard.
you only use me when you’re in need.
i guess i can say you rely on me...
in a way.
but you won’t let anyone else use me for fear of them getting hurt.
then you’d have to shave out some money for their hospital bill to fix what i did.
so after you’ve gotten your cereal, and the box is back in place, you shove me back between your fridge and the wall.
sometimes,
you forget i’m there completely.
you’ll use the counter instead to hoist up and grab a bag of chips.
and when you fall from trying to get down , you’ll run back to me,
“i should’ve come to you,” you’ll say.
but i know you’ll reclimb that counter when you don’t wanna use me.
you don’t have to flatter me.
i know you’re tired of me.
you need the space between your fridge and the wall for your new step latter.
it’s a better step latter, i’ll admit.
it doesn’t wobble when it unfolds.
it’s made of strong, shiny metal as opposed to my cracked plastic.
and when i’m hiding between the tree and a trash outside, i realize you didn’t want me.
you just needed something to stand on.
my description of my toxic friendship
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
flash flood warning
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
as the rain pelted my face i felt an odd sensation of satisfaction.

the water had cleansed my body like it was the holy water used at morning mass.

the catholics’ silence could be heard as i bathed in God’s tears.

the deafening echo of a wordless cathedral spinning into chaos.

as peace consumes me and
my body is laid to rest

i realize why God had flooded the earth the first time.
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
jack daniels
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
what was it like when you left me behind?
with a bottle of jack clasped in your greedy palm,
did you ever look over your shoulder?
did you ever turn back?

independency never looked more like a cage
when you realize it came with
losing a childhood to a parent
dependent on *****
and lost in her liquor.

maturity is a sculpture that people
chip and mold to fit their own reality
when they forget that the
broken pieces surrounding the perfect sculpture
are really what maturity is made of.

when you left me behind
i reveled in my independency
and clutched my broken pieces in my hands,
glued them back together
and called it armor.

but i still wonder from time to time,
if you ever looked down to see your own
broken jack bottle
glass pieces by your feet,
because you finally remembered

that you left your daughter behind.
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
godless
 Oct 2019 liz
fm
“i am a god!”
he yelled
with shaking fists
and a beat-red face.
his knees scabbed
and his blood flowing freely
onto the cemented ground.

she stared down at him,
eyebrow quirked
and a hint of a smile.
sword pointed
and ready for battle.
“you may be a god,
but i am hades.
and i bow to no one.”
 Sep 2019 liz
Medusa
sin is a raft
 Sep 2019 liz
Medusa
sinking in mundane nothingness
I hope for a chance of evil
to float past
I want to
grab
it
 Jun 2019 liz
Medusa
a walk
 Jun 2019 liz
Medusa
we walked ‘neath a true moon
you talking and talking, fast, faster
we walked up hill, and around again

you are my favorite walking partner
everything so clear on your perfect face
under this moon with me

someday you will remember our
walks, from distant planet of age
but thank you, kid, for tonight

it meant the world to me
a long walk on a cold night with my son just before he got the throw ups tonight. . . Ahhh, childhood.
 Jun 2019 liz
Medusa
body runes
 Jun 2019 liz
Medusa
maybe you, only you, why not you
when you broke me open it worked
too well all the runes spilled out like
thirst onto wet blossoms nothing
could make me take it back

given in is a given when there is no body
here there is always a touch hinting at more it is your hands
it is your eyebrow it is just a passing river dream
of years now in a rock cleft where fingers can
explain one hand, one hand will become a life

still stuck clinging for no reason other than the love of
that perfection inside the frilled ridge
oyster to my lips a shell within my moist
center where nothing must be cast out
until ultimate description unites

darkness visible to my ***** imagination
there will I lie to call back possibilities
no longer tame, not ours perhaps yet
nothing stops my train on fire bursting
through all your darks at once

immediate remote altitude
love full of goat head stickers without
brakes until someone will explode into stars
before bewildered eyes who refuse to see
remember, or explain because they have gone

mute
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