eyeshadow ground into
a finely powdered bath rug
feet stained gold and as
straight as sink ringed coffee
*(it's a perfect day
to run away
from all the crew neck
collars choking you)*
fall face down into a
cornfield and climb
dead pine trees clear
up to the blackbirds
*(i think you were once
upon a time the one who
never spent weekends
home and hurting)*
i am not your past
not your mistakes
i am not who you used to be
but won't say it didn't shape me
*(clattering red and
white checks skittering
across the floor as
hydrogenated oils)*
i know you're
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be
but i am also
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be
*(only ever thinking about
ceiling fans and my latest
mistakes or an odd assortment
of unspoken disagreements)*
i can't breathe under
highway overpasses
in parking garages or when
my hands are made of leather.
*(suburbia is just a
repainted mid-century
modern way of covering
up dysfunctional families)*
here and there
then and again
i remember that you
probably don't love me anymore
i understand that
neglect destroyed you
but you don't understand
that involvement destroyed me.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 2:34 PM UTC
eyeshadow ground into
a finely powdered bath rug
feet stained gold and as
straight as sink ringed coffee
*(it's a perfect day
to run away
from all the crew neck
collars choking you)*
fall face down into a
cornfield and climb
dead pine trees clear
up to the blackbirds
*(i think you were once
upon a time the one who
never spent weekends
home and hurting)*
i am not your past
not your mistakes
i am not who you used to be
but won't say it didn't shape me
*(clattering red and
white checks skittering
across the floor as
hydrogenated oils)*
i know you're
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be
but i am also
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be
*(only ever thinking about
ceiling fans and my latest
mistakes or an odd assortment
of unspoken disagreements)*
i can't breathe under
highway overpasses
in parking garages or when
my hands are made of leather.
*(suburbia is just a
repainted mid-century
modern way of covering
up dysfunctional families)*
here and there
then and again
i remember that you
probably don't love me anymore
i understand that
neglect destroyed you
but you don't understand
that involvement destroyed me.
Copyright 8/19/16 by B. E. McComb