Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2016
you got uh
permanent imprint
tattooed on my knuckles
it says, “risen”
shaky, now
now i’ll
touch my fingertips
to the surface of the sun
till there’s no love left
till the ashes fall
off the end of my cigarette
pluck every part of u
from my pores
i unravel
like an orange peel
ur bedroom eyes, that tungsten light
blue hues, **** fumes,
u count my freckles like starry night
and i’m sure if u stuck a needle
in my thighs
or the backs of my knees
a little bit of ur blood
mixed with mine  
would fill the vial
ur teeth still sunken into me
crimson, now
i’m thinking bout uh tall boy
pabst, perhaps
12 ounces of bubbles
i smother my lungs
he wants us to combust
im thinkin bout poison
or someone else to fill me up
while I’m still young
and while it’s still my choice
bitter, now
we’ve grown tired
and the roots are pulled up,
rotted
old
still stacked like nothing changed when i left
like u would taste peach and think of me
juicy, now
kat
Written by
kat  Tulsa, OK
(Tulsa, OK)   
447
     Swapnil Duryodhan and Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems