Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I wear a bodysuit of glass and blades, plucking at my shrunken skin. for every time he howls, shattering cries, I am torn. here is the secret no one knows: my bones show through. beneath the whispers of cotton and muscle, this girl is an empty vessel, slowing, submissive, sinking, the depths, constant calling, it would be so necessary to let go. the lone wolf growling in my belly, sharp teeth scraping at the carcass of skin and bone. nothing will deaden his hunger; I don’t know what he wants, so I give him everything, my skeleton, in sacrificial offering so that one of us will be satisfied, so that I will be enough. & at last, I am home.
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
night of the wolves
I wear a bodysuit of glass and blades, plucking at my shrunken skin. for every time he howls, shattering cries, I am torn. here is the secret no one knows: my bones show through. beneath the whispers of cotton and muscle, this girl is an empty vessel, slowing, submissive, sinking, the depths, constant calling, it would be so necessary to let go. the lone wolf growling in my belly, sharp teeth scraping at the carcass of skin and bone. nothing will deaden his hunger; I don’t know what he wants, so I give him everything, my skeleton, in sacrificial offering so that one of us will be satisfied, so that I will be enough. & at last, I am home.
emily-26
Written by
American
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem