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Emily Morgan May 2013
His voice eases my skin, fingers shadow
Inch, inch, inching, how much? Elephant eyes
Hidden behind hair, scattered strewn fabric.
Tangled mess of limbs, nothing outlasts weather.

You’re not my last and you’re not my first.
So don’t call don’t text don’t be what you think you need to be
I don’t know if it’s you or me but it might as well be you because I don’t feel so hot

I’m here and only your body is
I urge to illicit the utmost joy your hands itch at the thought
of touching me.

my heart hurts and I don’t have the                                                       up
why
                                                                                                    up
                  up       up           up           up             up         up
It’s simply      down    down    down    downdowndown
                                                                    down
                                                                         down
                                                                               down
                                                                                     down
                                                                                          down
                                                                                              down
                                                                                                  down
                                                                                                       down
                                                                                                           d(own)
                                                                                                                down            
                                                                                                                       down
                                                                                                                           down
                                                                                                                               down
                                                                                                                                  down
                                                                                                                                   down
Emily Morgan May 2013
SAD SACK ****, you are ******* drowning
Look, the rest of us can breathe.
We see your breaking bones, cracked and cracking.

Pity Party, cycling
deeper and deeper, c’mon your skin doesn’t seethe
SAD SACK ****, you are ******* drowning.

Further, Lower, Upward Clasping
To nothing, naive
We see your breaking bones, cracked and cracking.

Shoulders, tied down, heaving
Wailing, waiting for the weight to relieve
SAD SACK ****, you are ******* drowning.

Here is to hoping
Your mess will unweave
SAD SACK ******, you are ******* drowning.
We see your breaking bones, cracked and cracking.
Emily Morgan May 2013
me to cigarette
by emily morgan

cool quiet entrance
now his.
burrowed
invaded
imbedded
little stones
chipped wood
plastic fuzz glass
burnt laid down in a bed of
debris
sogging sitting tobacco
back from where he came


cigarette to me
by emily morgan

get your iphone out of my face
instagram ignorance
snapchat social justice
tweet tribal tattoos
facebook fascism/and-any-other-ism-you-know
tumblr sexuality issues
sweaty pierced skin
brow burrowed with thoughts
get your iphone out of my face
Emily Morgan May 2013
effervescent sprockets of *****
you are everywhere.
> our brains collide <
a metaphysical mash of minds
the in and the outs.

I have joy,
        but don’t find what I hide.

when you do,

I itch

and we will play pretend.

my eyes
won’t be able to meet yours,

you will
refer to me as someone
you knew.

everywhere and nowhere
this space you play with
i’m not your jungle gym toy house game time afternoon
in the park,
I call bull.
Rearrange your head.
Emily Morgan May 2013
I want to kiss you in a swarming crowd
2. only I am kissing you [I want you]
3. (you and only you) so be with me please
4 and only me, be here now hold my hand
5. it’s us, thank god, brought together, thank god.
6.together we are un-alone, held up
7.And then, un-alone, lips move, moving in
8.synchronicity, lean more into me
9. you help me breathe, baby, your lungs, gimme
10. oxygen. so i can bear my face in
11.yours, pushing my whiskers in your soft skin
12. don’t pull back away to from me come come
13. come back, my skin has no place to be without yours against it
14. [I’m lost] sea of strangers, i need to breathe.
Emily Morgan May 2013
are you the long winding road filled with doctor’s houses?

are you stolen cigarettes,
I N H A L E D after-school?

are you secrets-scratched-out in 6th period History?

are you lunches munched|crunched|stuffed behind bathroom doors,
P U R G E D after-fifth-period?

are you the fake lesbian artist with an absent father?
are you the cry[gay]by in the closet?

are you your grandfather’s anger during thanksgiving dinner?

are you stolen?

are you passed-out-drunk on a ceramic floor?

are you now the throttler?
the (one who was throttled)?
Emily Morgan May 2013
Limp hair,
Sopping, strung out
Pallid skin
You look hollow
As if
Lying on a hospital floor
Was too soon for a coffin
Hands smooth down frizz
Your mouth, ajar
Bits of chalk, grinning
Only you could
You itch at the humans
Coming in
And out
In and out
Who couldn’t oir tus palabras
Thinking, too young and stupid
An immigrant
So you sat
Waiting
For the gringos tontos
To fix you.

— The End —