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My body is Detroit. Spray paint in the form of a Kaleidoscopic, mountainous macabre- knuckle
avalanche going down the 90 degree angle that just isn't right but I can't call it obtuse.
I have gang signs littered across the human vessel, spotty and an embarrassed brown covered by a collar, and green, yellow and maroon covered by sunglasses.
Love is not possession in the way abuse is not love.
Both own you. Sailing, he's steering. my cruise is on the Slave Trade Triangle route.
You never asked me to get your name tattooed on the past 18 years of dermis cut, shaved, kissed, caressed, burnt and brown.
when they said
it was
a tragedy
I thought
it was
a dream
to place my
mouth
where he
speaks scriptures
a holy man
making a
good girl
out of
me
for all the
time
he prays
I spend
on my
knees
"eat me"
i told you
so you put
a napkin round
your neck
and hung
there
with a look
buried in
your eyes
that still
consumed me
you were the noose
i wore around
my neck
like a
chandelier
"that old thing"
i whispered
spotted sight of my
soiled soul
the boy who
cried wolf
stole my tears
and ravaged
my village
i wish
i could wipe
your
finger prints
from my
memories
but there's
this one spot
that never
comes off
they taught me
my body's a
garden
I call my
purple petals blooming
violets
but you'd
call them
bruises
you didn't know
who tended to
my weeds only
made them
grow
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