"endoskeleton" poems
I want to flay my skin
Rid myself of all that is surface deep
Throw off my flesh like a coat
Feel raw pain as air hits nerve
See my endoskeleton of muscle and ligament
Heart pumping blood through artery and vein
I'd pluck it out still beating
And lay it on the butchers block
Alongside kidneys, liver, guts
An offal offering
Consume me my darling
'Til there's nothing left save bone.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
a doctor once told me I had a cracked spine
and it all made sense because
I always seemed to fall in your direction.
but maybe I'm not afraid of heights
our falling from them
just the noise my heart makes when it hits the ground.
I need a new endoskeleton
to keep my heart from getting punctured
or maybe my current one is just tired of the bruises.
you want to know how I got these scars?
I ripped every memory of you out of my heart
and out of my mind and sacrificed them
to the part of me every time you
come into my vision screams "move on".
just when I started to get over you
I saw your face again and realized:
I will never be able to be just friends with you.
when the space between us went from
the gap between my fingers
to the distance from here to the MilkyWay
I told myself:
fire and water don't mix,
but when they love, they love passionately.
but unfortunately,
my local supermarket doesn't sell a band aid
able to fix a heart.
and my mother never taught me how to sew.
but tell me I'm not crazy when you were the one
who taught me to be thankful when my lungs filled with air.
how can it be a crime to come home late
from wondering what it would be like to wake up next to you everyday?
and I had a front row seat to watch
you give her everything I once gave you.
and with every syllable,
I swallow yet another piece of my heart.
but I do not complain.
for what good is art if it is not shared?
loving you was self-destruction.
I treated you as if you were the sun
and I were the flowers; I needed you.
But I guess the sun doesn't need the flowers
as much as the flowers need the sun.
but you were always my biggest muse.
(s.j.b.)
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Torn margin, yellow age
Empty whites, nothing pages
Much powder, talcum trees
Birds, endoskeleton, bees
Shredder circling claws reach
Ring, ring, ting, and some bleach
Mula lost, wormful peach.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
This race war has me confused,
Their opinions are outdated views.
If you posses A endoskeleton,
I can assure you, this is relevant -
Racism formed by past hierarchy ?
Forgive those who caused this anarchy.
Racism based on prejudice, fear, presumption?
Forgive the ignorant for their assumption.
We are no more than particles and atoms,
shaped by our historical pattern.
In two thousand and nineteen,
people still can’t see,
that I’m like you and your like me.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 2:14 PM UTC
I am nothing
I am sliding
My words are neither
lyrical nor logical
and I am empty of the voices that once
told me right from wrong;
left from right and
laddered tights
ripped off in half-dawn
alleys by gents whose ***** are as
blue as
packets of cheese and onion crisps.
I fear the next feeding hour;
I fear the sticky awareness that
I am not aware;
I fear the footsteps; the breaths; the
children.
I am reliant on these bubbles of
expensive chemistry.
My brother begs me not to and
he does not know the half of it.
Half time, half way, half asleep, half dead.
My hair is falling out and my
cells falling off my
endoskeleton;
my outer shell is fractured and
I am curiously broken.
Heed my advice -
I have none.
Find your own oblivion.
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC