i nearly called her last night
to tell her that i found out i was a character in a book
about
a poet who hated poetry
that doesn't spill out over boundaries
into ashes of desire
and obfuscates
that we are weapons
like boiling pots and empty cups
no one can drink from
using each other
against each other
desperate
which is why i am afraid to love
why i don't have smooth charm
why i cant make sense suddenly
while her wit
incises me like grapefruit
i became her pathetic expectation
a self-destructive idiot
useless
fumbling with matches
setting myself on fire
with every word
like a good poet
until i was
burnt earth
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
i nearly called her last night
to tell her that i found out i was a character in a book
about
a poet who hated poetry
that doesn't spill out over boundaries
into ashes of desire
and obfuscates
that we are weapons
like boiling pots and empty cups
no one can drink from
using each other
against each other
desperate
which is why i am afraid to love
why i don't have smooth charm
why i cant make sense suddenly
while her wit
incises me like grapefruit
i became her pathetic expectation
a self-destructive idiot
useless
fumbling with matches
setting myself on fire
with every word
like a good poet
until i was
burnt earth
