a few words to
knock my mandible loose
I set it back into place;
she can be sure
my ears are ripe to listen
her nails grew
in her rearing days
clamantly
clawing
'til quiet is connate to me
condign, burke
a silent sting
spoil, spoil, spoil
spare the rod
save a disparate word
and you turn to strike the wind from me with it
snag my heart
on something keen
rip it from my filthy sleeve
cosset my mother when she cries
bleed my wounds to quell her whine
I could never spill enough
to sate that empty barathrum
just waits to lay me in her snare
lets the bile sleep on the tip of her tongue
best to burn the skin that's young
upheave and hurl my cares around
would I wait for your sorrow?
for your penitence?
I long for it
but it would be swallowed up before the moon could set.
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
a few words to
knock my mandible loose
I set it back into place;
she can be sure
my ears are ripe to listen
her nails grew
in her rearing days
clamantly
clawing
'til quiet is connate to me
condign, burke
a silent sting
spoil, spoil, spoil
spare the rod
save a disparate word
and you turn to strike the wind from me with it
snag my heart
on something keen
rip it from my filthy sleeve
cosset my mother when she cries
bleed my wounds to quell her whine
I could never spill enough
to sate that empty barathrum
just waits to lay me in her snare
lets the bile sleep on the tip of her tongue
best to burn the skin that's young
upheave and hurl my cares around
would I wait for your sorrow?
for your penitence?
I long for it
but it would be swallowed up before the moon could set.
grief creeps in on me
like the morning
