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bqlePoems
forgotten: in the bush, looking for bodies that hang from trees, where the apples are - high above the canopy. so easy, to smile and laugh without knowing how my stomache hurts once, twice, everytime it moves. or that my heart beats fast once, twice, too many times, for fear someone from my past or future is chasing me to blaze my thoughts. here i am, and there you are: white and yellow like my grandmothers' sweater in April, or our eyes that reflect our skin. i pull and cramp way too often when i run. like i am not fast enough. i am not fast enough maybe because I spend too much time in my four by four, counting one to four. but what else can i do? * to forget: is the simplest way to avoid fear. path of least-resistance. like your bullets through my brothers' skin, and your swift exit. clack, clack, the door opens once, twice, too many times. so what if they don't come back? then I will be lost, people who look like me will lose, we will be lost. but we have lost. i guess that's why we are here, mourning about losing and being forgotten. because our berries cannot poison your hull. but maybe i can. he can't, but maybe i can maybe, Maybe, even though his head cracks before he left his four by four. But I can. I have to leave. Here I go.
0
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 10:03 PM UTC
four by four
forgotten: in the bush, looking for bodies that hang from trees, where the apples are - high above the canopy. so easy, to smile and laugh without knowing how my stomache hurts once, twice, everytime it moves. or that my heart beats fast once, twice, too many times, for fear someone from my past or future is chasing me to blaze my thoughts. here i am, and there you are: white and yellow like my grandmothers' sweater in April, or our eyes that reflect our skin. i pull and cramp way too often when i run. like i am not fast enough. i am not fast enough maybe because I spend too much time in my four by four, counting one to four. but what else can i do? * to forget: is the simplest way to avoid fear. path of least-resistance. like your bullets through my brothers' skin, and your swift exit. clack, clack, the door opens once, twice, too many times. so what if they don't come back? then I will be lost, people who look like me will lose, we will be lost. but we have lost. i guess that's why we are here, mourning about losing and being forgotten. because our berries cannot poison your hull. but maybe i can. he can't, but maybe i can maybe, Maybe, even though his head cracks before he left his four by four. But I can. I have to leave. Here I go.
Written by
bqle
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 10:03 PM UTC
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