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grey-davidsonPoems
I lack patience But do not rush me. Her hands burn my skin and She pushes my spine into cold concrete. Evil tastes like raspberries and she forced Me to drink pineapple juice to Chase her stink from my cavities And veil myself with blank stares. Cutting my skin to ribbons Would chase the ghosts of bruises Around my wrists and waist And tender, childish curves. Crimson replaces violet And puce And leopard spots become Plumage of my own design. I am a broken ragdoll Added to the pile. Touch me while you can Before her ghost reminds me How to paint my face in poppies And crack my own ribs with lungs that Heave like tides.
0
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Spineless
I lack patience But do not rush me. Her hands burn my skin and She pushes my spine into cold concrete. Evil tastes like raspberries and she forced Me to drink pineapple juice to Chase her stink from my cavities And veil myself with blank stares. Cutting my skin to ribbons Would chase the ghosts of bruises Around my wrists and waist And tender, childish curves. Crimson replaces violet And puce And leopard spots become Plumage of my own design. I am a broken ragdoll Added to the pile. Touch me while you can Before her ghost reminds me How to paint my face in poppies And crack my own ribs with lungs that Heave like tides.
#pain#hurt#past#memory
grey-davidson
Written by
grey-davidson
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
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