the safety vest my rib cage calls home,
tight on my chest as i pave this road
tangerine juice in mismatched mugs
at a midnight breakfast
sunset in the dusk mirror of Pelican Lake,
tendrils of light sailing on a gust of wind
the crisp, dry fire of leaves
crowning autumn trees
my garden marigolds, rimmed in oxblood,
planted despite their toxic pollen
prescription bottles in my cabinet,
filled with pills, model of an addiction
a lace of rust, climbing trusses,
devouring steel with tender teeth
embers at the shore of my bones
in this skin, a permanent glow.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
the safety vest my rib cage calls home,
tight on my chest as i pave this road
tangerine juice in mismatched mugs
at a midnight breakfast
sunset in the dusk mirror of Pelican Lake,
tendrils of light sailing on a gust of wind
the crisp, dry fire of leaves
crowning autumn trees
my garden marigolds, rimmed in oxblood,
planted despite their toxic pollen
prescription bottles in my cabinet,
filled with pills, model of an addiction
a lace of rust, climbing trusses,
devouring steel with tender teeth
embers at the shore of my bones
in this skin, a permanent glow.
