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Portland Grace Mar 2014
My mouth is scarred
and my gums
are bleeding out.

My captive words
are decaying me.
Portland Grace Mar 2014
I poured myself into you,
as if you were a mold.
My imperfections spilling through your skin,
till you coughed up my failures.

I looked at your hands
and I found my callouses.

Broken and stained,
I slept on the couch.
Your skin started to feel cold,
I could feel it flaking off.
I have deteriorated you.

When I cut my own throat,
you choked on my blood.
Portland Grace Feb 2014
I wanted you to need me,
so I slipped into your arms,
and sighed my name in your mouth,
until you did.

I tried to hold onto you,
but my manipulations are sharp
and you shattered.

I was never sad,
only
disappointed
in myself.

I am not
as good
as I thought.
and I might
have needed you
a little bit
too.
Portland Grace Feb 2014
I asked where it began
and I looked at the boot tracks,
out the back porch
to mark where it ended.

You took three scars with you,
one on your palm
I burned my initials
with the skin on my neck
on your right shoulder,
where your ink lie dormant
you couldn't sweat it out
when we made love
and one on the inside of your lip
where my teeth drew blood,
I wasn't much
for kissing foreheads.

You became a part of the mountain,
I fled to the sea
I broke you and bruised
me.

We cut each other with knives
mine of selfishness
yours of chaos.

I thought of you
when I thought of beauty and rain,
eyes like the creek behind your house,
hands like my fathers.
Splashing puddles
can't stop a monsoon.

One year past,
you are dust beneath rubber,
browned leaves upon a dust shelf,
thrown into the trash,
picture frames
onto the top of my closet,
Your name was never tattooed to me,
though it felt like that for a long time.

Yesterday
I think I went the whole day
without calling your name
beneath my breath.

I have won,
my heart back
you had it
for far too long.
Portland Grace Jan 2014
Whoops,
I went and lost my balance
again.

I've got
so many scrapes,
and scars.
I am armed from head to toe
with calloused skin.

So, naturally
I checked my feet
for stability
before I reached
for the stars;
but it started raining,
and I slipped.

Things have been so hard
since you left.
Portland Grace Jan 2014
There are many things
that I crave
that I will never have.
Like my fathers love,
and your head on the pillow next to mine
in the middle of winter.
Portland Grace Jan 2014
You
sprinting to meet your sideways obsessions.
Your hands thread through my insulation
I am embroidered with your insecurities.

Across your hips and rippling through
me,
I am upside down phobias.

You dug into gravel,
and rocks flew from your hands
coated with confused affection
and hit every pane of glass for miles around

Residue at the bottom of wine bottles,
and the very first sip.
I drank you, too much
skin on skin
your coldness embraced me so softly
I forgot about spring.
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