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Nov 2015
10.
I spew ink.

My whole life I believed I
Was made of tar
People walking by would leave their shoes behind
I thought that my lovers were stuck there
Caught in the goopy blackness of my stirring soul
I had no beaters, no mixing spoon
And they would gasp for breath on the surface

I pushed them out
I could not stand to hurt them so
Letting them die would be such a low blow
And it surprised me
To watch them leave so quickly
Like they didn't even want to fix me

One boy tried to clean me out with his bare hands once
And the farther he reached, the dirtier we both became
He traced my name with his fingers on my grimy car windows
"Wash me" the message would say
And I would try to shampoo the tar out of my hair

But as I looked at the spattered stains underneath my fingernails
My poetry, black and white
I saw right through my self-toldΒ Β lies.

I spew ink.

Like an exploded pen in your white shirt pocket.
Look at the beautiful spots bleeding into the cotton.

Please don't leave.
I promise it's just ink.
Kate Lion
Written by
Kate Lion  Israel
(Israel)   
649
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