Writing is unpacking, it’s unloading the freeloaders opinions & wiping slates clean.
Writing is packing, it’s loading up the freeloaders opinions & keeping score.
A narcissistic paradise, ink, pencil, pen, choose your weapon.
He said you have that talent and that baby and you wear it so beautifully. Eloquently, like none of their harsh words ever mattered, like you didn’t scrub away your finger prints wiping off the excess opinions.
Like you weren’t ever crucified for your weight and how you chose to carry it or sit it down when you got weary. Like loneliness was never a cloak you cradled with you. Like quiet was your nature and loud was your opening act. Like people weren’t diving in to receive more and leave you less. Girl, you have that talent and that baby and you wear it so beautifully.
Mom, such a foreign word
I have one, I know one, I am one
And yet I haven’t begun to understand the meaning
When you laughed you took all the air from out of our lungs & for the first time I was glad to see you selfish.
Did you become an alcoholic because of a girl or because of the world?
Whatever your answer is, same.
I glued my legs together with black berry jam
The sweetest spread
The deepest intake
The shallowest chest cavity
Held nothing for me
Nothing mattered, other than the desperation of needing each other.
Just that consummated closeness.
I wanna have enough friends that two people can carry the cake out when they sing happy birthday
What is it
That noise you make
That soft hum so distinct
So full of distain
Scorn me, scorch me, sink your suckling teeth into me. But don’t you ever ******* say you love me.
How much of me do you not need?
Because when I offered you accepted everything willingly.
You stuffed your face with frivolity.
Selfishly gulped down my heart and with it my insecurities.
When you were finished, you gave your compliments to the chef and told me you never wanted any of it.
I wish your sincerity would reverberate through me, bounce back and clothe you