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Grace Haak Sep 2019
hot butter strolls down my face
and rolls down my nose
dribbles down my chin
and spatters the floor
the lustrous linoleum

i cry tears of sugar
it tastes much too sweet
as they mix with my thoughts
and pour into the cracked bowl
the jaded green memory

my hands are matted with white
and caked with delight
but it's a less-than-pleasant mess
i've used too much
it called for just a teaspoon
to pastures green
what life
from
the depths


of
me

scream oh silence scream
what washing
of
white
from my dreams
castle window
round edge
count me
counted
riddle
read
me
in
motion

what woo have i
your cling to me is deep
beyond how
we have
touched
you
nothing is real

what flesh have you weighed for me
what skies have i painted
your favorite
colour
blue

that my words lose their mean it
i cry out to rocks
for my blood
what is this
part
of
me

have we not been circumcised
that the brushing
of
my
fingertips could soothe you

what words do you feel
use your letters as jacks
toss them
on
the
floor
bounce the ball
did you pick up enough letters
to make the word love
did it want to
scratch
your
back
what is this
harm from me
?






















...
..
.
eyelash
...
..
.
you held me in your hand,
you took me everywhere - at your mercy.
you would drop me in the sand,
continually batter my heart and soul,
then only would you go looking for your mercy which you lost, somewhere in the sand.
Cody Henatt Dec 2015
You
You burn me,
Break me,
Overwhelm,
Take me,
And I'm left to put myself back together.

You shatter,
Batter,
Taunt me so.
Eventually I'll have to blow.

— The End —