Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I could not produce a perfect sentence,
so instead I killed my family.
Intricate webs woven,
and little seeds planted.
Words that will not touch a page
let loose a vindictive voice.
That's why your inner voice
finds words like onomatopoeia funny;
it's sharp.

As you project your frustration
into a headache, it passes along.
You try to remember if your family
history has been linked to cancer.

Yet some people will say:
Words Don't Hurt.
But they know.
Because they once
had families, too.
The chilly camp-like home where I was staying,
had no running water, in winter all shut down,
but had—amplitudinous electric.

I must have been thinking extra sharp that morning,
when to electric stovetop I came; soon had boiling
Cumberland Farm’s bottled water
in a copper *** with four brown eggs.

With careful timing at last I took the four eggs out
and with the heated water applying
Barbasol and razor, so I shaved.

Please take care to not spill a single drop
of soapy water into the winterized drain pipe,

I heard in my head my sage sister say.

I discarded the contents of the ***
into a snowy patch.

Good morning, and happy happy, I sang.
I hefted one oak log onto a dying fire.

Two of the four eggs I ate,
saving the last for leaner days.

So complete--eggs
and hot shave breakfast.
on the lighter side...HAheho, written about 2007
truth
rises up
from
the
bottom of the well
to
discover
who
we are
from
the
bottom of the well
The weight of the world
Sits on his chest
As he breaths
He grasps for it
Rose petals fall
Straight from his head
As his eyes burn
Like fire, again, and again
Mouth sewed shut
Her needle pokes through
Stippling his heart
Like a car wreck
The moment his hands left
He can't remember
When he lost control
Drunk driving
Into her soul

E.s.
I whinge for the cold
You whinge for the heat
Whether we whinge or not
The wether will be what it will be
 Apr 2016 elizabeth capital
MKB
If I could speak maybe I would but the water in my ears is
300 degrees and
I am tired of being the peace keeper of people who don’t
Deserve me

The world would kiss my feet but
I chose you
The clouds lick my cheeks but
I chose you
I could know the sun’s brightest eye,
But I chained my throat with
Your gilded promise
There is a memory to make so let's not waste this time
as it will never come again

Take my hand and let me feel your complexity
Slip into my arms like the most comfortable
blanket on a brisk winters night

I ask not for a kiss for its fleeting for sure
but let me truly know you and feel your heart

That is forever!

I'm your vault, I'm your net,  I'm the safety you seek

I am here now
I'm present, I'm listening, I'm yours!
Next page