#seams
Broken words line these open seams
A bleeding heart rests in the palm of hope
You struggle to keep your hold on the ground
All your stitches are open doors
Ready to take in a lonely soul
At the expense of everything that was yours
Dec 22, 2021
Dec 22, 2021 at 7:40 PM UTC
Staring in a mirror. Again
It makes me feel worse just to see
I braided my hair so neatly
Now it's falling apart at the seams
There's a comparison there
Let's not look into it
If I stick pins in
Tie up all the loose ends again
It'll look neater, sure
As long as you don't look too close
Cause there's a glittering metal barricade
Of a halfhearted hairstyle I tried to save
Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 11:08 AM UTC
find yourself in the seams of my musings;
a tale of young love, a tale of sweet tragedy,
a warm hug of belonging, a cold release of parting,
such restless heart wanders, high hopes as remedy.
IA
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 12:05 PM UTC
idealism is a fraud;
angels don't cut off demons' horns
nor do they make them do so;
trust is built for decades,
it cannot be rebuilt in a month
after its destruction;
sometimes worn out apologies
are slapped band-aids onto wounds;
love is not a combat of logic and emotion,
whoever wins makes the other go;
hearts don't stay hearts,
they turn into things
when their own beats begin to lie;
we live in utopian daydreams,
with only a few, broken but breathing souls
seeing through the seams.
IA
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 12:38 PM UTC
Tonight, I laid with thee—
In this room,— Whence thou liberated these ******* to seams,
Thy vest unlocked the chest to beat—
Hush...
The empty black skies,—
I wilt pray with thee—
With two candles intertwined..
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 6:59 AM UTC
underneath the seams of fate,
tell me, which do you regret more;
the day you met me?
or the day you left?
IA
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 12:35 PM UTC
Loose Knit
by Michael R. Burch
She blesses the needle,
fetches fine red stitches,
criss-crossing, embroidering dreams
in the delicate fabric.
And if her hand jerks and twitches in puppet-like fits,
she tells herself
reality is not as threadbare as it seems ...
that a little more darning may gather loose seams.
She weaves an unraveling tapestry
of fatigue and remorse and pain; ...
only the nervously pecking needle
****** her to motion, again and again.
Published by The Chariton Review, Penumbra, Black Bear Review, and Triplopia. Keywords/Tags: Addiction, needle, veins, stitches, red, blood, ****** dreams, hallucinations, seams, darning, tapestry
Mar 21, 2020
Mar 21, 2020 at 11:22 PM UTC
When you kiss my lips
my heart feels like it's unraveling at the seams,
and my emotions are exposed to you.
When you are done,
sew me up,
and do it all over again.
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 9:28 PM UTC
she was thinking again
about the seams in her legs
the stitches
and weeping.
it terrified her
the blood gushing out
torn skin
the flavor of pain
her eyes were locked open
and she stared at the seams
tears pouring from her sewed-open eyes
she sits on her pile of ashes
her blood mixing
making a muddy paste
that crusts on her eyelashes
her bruised cuts growing on her flesh
opening
and reopening
maggots gnawing on her body
eating the remnants of flesh
and she stares.
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC
I've tailored so many suits,
Switching out mismatched buttons for shining brass,
And restoring fabric worn thin over years of well-loved use.
But I cannot tailor this traitorous skin to fit me right.
In some placed it's too lose,
In others too tight…
I cannot switch out the pieces of me I'd rather live without
For new pieces shining with pride.
There is no way to restore a body to what it should have been,
Or even to the simple majesty of what it once was.
Young and ignorant of its uneven seams.
I've hemmed ladies' skirts to the perfect lengths
So they no longer need to worry about tripping over the excess.
Hemmed them to show just the right amount of ankle
Or perhaps none at all..
But I cannot hem myself..
This excess emotion staining my voice denoted me as "she."
And I trip over my own voice that no longer fits in my mouth..
While gorgeous girls in gowns show off thin strips of themselves,
I am left trying to hide every piece of my skin.
This is why I have risked sunstroke in the dead of summer
Wearing a hoodie and jeans to keep me safe.
This is why swimming pools are often synonymous with nightmare.
I no longer know how to wear this body with pride.
So when they ask me when I knew I wasn't a girl…
I have to restrain my urge to laugh and cry all at once.
Because when do we know that something is not as perfect as we once thought..
Only once it has been shown to us and we've been told to fix it.
I wish I could go back to being ignorant of my uneven seams.
These uneven seams that I cannot rip out unless I want to bleed out.
These uneven seams that I will never be able to fix to perfection.
But maybe…
Slowly,
Ever so slowly,
We might be able to stretch the seams of this world.
So that no child has to learn to hate or fear
Their jagged edges
Their unhemmable spaces…
…
…
…
…
But I cannot be one of those children..
So I will use chemicals to hem my voice..
Readjust my buttons…
Stretch my seams…
I will find a seamster more experienced then I
To rip out these traitorous strings
And rearrange the fabric to a more seemly drape.
I will use new fabric to cover up the patterns I am no longer proud of…
The patterns that cloud my days…
I will mend my ways
Learning to live in a patchwork maze
Until my spirit can return to where it truly belongs
In a beautiful blaze.
- EPL 11/6/2017
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC
The universe behind your eyes bursts at the seams
And inside you hide in unnamed galaxies
You wish to speak of the wisdom of trees
You want to talk about the calm of seas
A momentary distraction is all you need
To turn the voices down, to live a silent dream
It fills up your mindscape with high-def imagery
A 42-inch flatscreen TV.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
My life is a series of dashes dreams
Sewing up patches
To have them ripped at the seams
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC