how do I fall in love with pieces of myself
that died many years ago?
emptiness hangs in my mouth
like some fickle aftertaste.
and deep down, my thoughts are like
frightened fish.
i cut the world out of a magazine and
held it in my hands. . . how easy it seemed;
to crush it. to crumple it.
turn it into heartache origami.
i suppose i'm possessed;
a mourning era––a morning light,
a bowl full of teeth.
i have laid myself to rest so many times that it seems i celebrate my funeral more often than my birthday.
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 2:00 AM UTC
how do I fall in love with pieces of myself
that died many years ago?
emptiness hangs in my mouth
like some fickle aftertaste.
and deep down, my thoughts are like
frightened fish.
i cut the world out of a magazine and
held it in my hands. . . how easy it seemed;
to crush it. to crumple it.
turn it into heartache origami.
i suppose i'm possessed;
a mourning era––a morning light,
a bowl full of teeth.
i have laid myself to rest so many times that it seems i celebrate my funeral more often than my birthday.
5/20/20
––From some old religion of mine; v.
"welcome to certain altars"
© Copywrite Skaidrum
