#garments - Hello Poetry

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, blood is shameless;] impurity on the ***** red I pure I shed hunger I fed so loose so tight on the lead so irritating she bled revolting when it messes with the head doors closed sounds spread again unlike the befores I said polluted on garments I five the two onto the further of the farthest of lives I paint I skin I smudge the thin in the thrill till it comes to a **** and a breathe is willed for nails to blood and fingers to clot guilty shame not guilty shameless pleasures on the lots I care I not --------ravenfeels

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Apr 13, 2021

Apr 13, 2021 at 5:00 PM UTC

raven-feels

***** Red

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, blood is shameless;] impurity on the ***** red I pure I shed hunger I fed so loose so tight on the lead so irritating she bled revolting when it messes with the head doors closed sounds spread again unlike the befores I said polluted on garments I five the two onto the further of the farthest of lives I paint I skin I smudge the thin in the thrill till it comes to a **** and a breathe is willed for nails to blood and fingers to clot guilty shame not guilty shameless pleasures on the lots I care I not --------ravenfeels

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I wish I felt like clarity and nothingness, or that intangible vapour like stuff which comes off of a power washer at a car wash in a dark car park the car's owner absent, away shopping You were the one who put your fingers in my mouth I'm supposed to be embarrassed and disappointed I am both I suspect you are a good person you have a sister who you love I bet you are different when you go home I bet you are nice I hope they know what you do You are a classical easy **** But I'm just syllables and escort clothing For a while I quite liked that In fact I'm proud My friends find it funny You liked the smell of my hair And gradually I'm piecing these notes together I think that if I had more crushed up note pages grinding into your back You would have remembered me I'm pretending that if you taste that scent again, you'll know I still have some of you attached to the garments at the bottom of a full laundry basket

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Mar 5, 2014

Mar 5, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC

r-k-hodge

I'm glad that you don't text anymore.

I wish I felt like clarity and nothingness, or that intangible vapour like stuff which comes off of a power washer at a car wash in a dark car park the car's owner absent, away shopping You were the one who put your fingers in my mouth I'm supposed to be embarrassed and disappointed I am both I suspect you are a good person you have a sister who you love I bet you are different when you go home I bet you are nice I hope they know what you do You are a classical easy **** But I'm just syllables and escort clothing For a while I quite liked that In fact I'm proud My friends find it funny You liked the smell of my hair And gradually I'm piecing these notes together I think that if I had more crushed up note pages grinding into your back You would have remembered me I'm pretending that if you taste that scent again, you'll know I still have some of you attached to the garments at the bottom of a full laundry basket

23

Faceless workers in factory far from US home work on garments one after the other. They labor sewing, in repetitive fashion day in, day out, as I put garment on in distant land. I slip self into cloth not thinking someone worked as I take for granted piece I hold. A simple garment of underwear, bra fit well sewn with face and nameless hands. Thank you factory worker who made it possible to walk in store and purchase wares. Thanks for working in slave-like factories for my comfort in modernized world. Thank you faceless ones, for moving in your life to benefit me while corporations fill their pockets. I am grateful, as my sun shines in West. And I, wear undergarments never to be seen.

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Nov 2, 2017

Nov 2, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC

star-bg

Thanks To Chinese Worker

Faceless workers in factory far from US home work on garments one after the other. They labor sewing, in repetitive fashion day in, day out, as I put garment on in distant land. I slip self into cloth not thinking someone worked as I take for granted piece I hold. A simple garment of underwear, bra fit well sewn with face and nameless hands. Thank you factory worker who made it possible to walk in store and purchase wares. Thanks for working in slave-like factories for my comfort in modernized world. Thank you faceless ones, for moving in your life to benefit me while corporations fill their pockets. I am grateful, as my sun shines in West. And I, wear undergarments never to be seen.

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