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christopher-hendrixPoems
It took until now thin and mid 20s to comprehend that as a child I was and as an adult still very much am spoiled little childhood traumas to mine                no festering drama                no shrouded mess calm can bury like a gravity blanket                too hot or too cold                I complain I have never clawed at my belly in hunger felt my body fall off in jeweled pieces but I have at times been hungry adulthood is a lake blue black and endless                rife with mudtraps                     brimming with viperheads                          scraping at the surface water I am spoiled I have not known pain but I knew a person whose eyes prodded                like nails through jello my insides and cut tendrils of muscle and delighted in the stitching back                the pushing of                     needle through                          meaty bits some time after I was grown but flailing madly as a comet poised for landfall a beetle in a dust storm a child with its first scraped knee my flesh yearns for the needle and for skin all smooth and scarred and like the color of night                singing like the color of night like sky like light a rapturous blue
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
Boy
It took until now thin and mid 20s to comprehend that as a child I was and as an adult still very much am spoiled little childhood traumas to mine                no festering drama                no shrouded mess calm can bury like a gravity blanket                too hot or too cold                I complain I have never clawed at my belly in hunger felt my body fall off in jeweled pieces but I have at times been hungry adulthood is a lake blue black and endless                rife with mudtraps                     brimming with viperheads                          scraping at the surface water I am spoiled I have not known pain but I knew a person whose eyes prodded                like nails through jello my insides and cut tendrils of muscle and delighted in the stitching back                the pushing of                     needle through                          meaty bits some time after I was grown but flailing madly as a comet poised for landfall a beetle in a dust storm a child with its first scraped knee my flesh yearns for the needle and for skin all smooth and scarred and like the color of night                singing like the color of night like sky like light a rapturous blue
#night#light#calm#adulthood#spoiled#eyes#muscle#flesh#color#love
christopher-hendrix
Written by
christopher-hendrix
31/American
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
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