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Jagger Bowers Nov 2013
I'm writing love poems

to a person that doesn't exist

building her up

from the bottom with my words

her skin as soft as half smiles

we'll share after an argument

her arguments as hard as

similes

I know

she's not there

not the one I've imagined

but when I do find someone

She will be poetry
Jagger Bowers Nov 2013
a part
of me
finds it
fitting

a person
looking for anything
to hold them up
can find it
in a noose
Jagger Bowers Sep 2013
I look at you
and the world turns
into flowers
Jagger Bowers Jul 2013
they gut the God from me
with their guns
their knives
their bare hands
carve Him from my corners
every nook and cranny becomes abyss
black as their gunpowder eyes
their void hearts
their charred teeth
they flame my faith away
inside out like
a backwards bullet wound
but their hands
hold newborns
wipe away tears
clasp in prayer
but
no
they’re
digging at my soul
twisting Him out
cutting Him out
clawing Him out
ripping Him out
sawing Him out
slitting Him out
scraping Him out
scooping Him out
****** Him out
shooting Him out
until
I am a shell
I am a chamber
until
I’m relinquished to men
made in His image
Jagger Bowers May 2013
they shot up my throat
my words
like a guillotine
my breath like gravity
in reverse
hate is an executioner
and it wasn't until i
severed you
i realized
you've such a pretty face
Jagger Bowers May 2013
Press my lips
like piano keys; we'll
ring
gently
gently
Jagger Bowers May 2013
The only time I've ever felt hunger
was when I fasted for 48 hours
in the 11th grade
just for attention
After I ate my first pop-****
I pooped so hard I got angry at God
I got angry at God
The boy blessed enough
to be a picky eater

In 19 years of being well fed
the hardest thing I've ever
had to swallow is my own pride

They say if you feed a man a fish
he will eat for a day
Well I've never caught a fish in my life
and half the time I'm too afraid
to order a pizza because I think
I'll mess it up

So tell me why when I go to restaurants
my taste buds feel entitled to slaves
Why do they whip servers into making
my meat medium well

My teeth have never tasted blood
My mouth doesn't know dry
I've never dreamt of food
because I don't know life without it
But at least once a week I get mad
that McDonald's doesn't deliver

I once watched a cow get slaughtered
and I didn't blink an eye
because I could already taste her in my mouth

In the same year my history class
raised money for nine months to buy one goat
to send to a village I've never heard of

The contrast is cruel

I can remember the last sound the cow made
but I can't remember the sounds that made
up the village's name
or its people

So I hope you'll understand that
when I utter the unfathomable phrase
"I'm starving"
all I can taste in my mouth is shame
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