"outsides" poems
A sea of nettles and nails that scream their injustice at you
People who seem like they've shaken off their prickly outsides and their hatred
Turning to congratulate them
Embrace them
Before you find the truth beneath their pillowy covering
Nails can be blunted and nettles can be softened but they remain below your surface,
Waiting for the right moment to be sharpened and grow back their stings
I see your injustice and I raise you my peace
It hurts to tear out your nails and to burn off those nettles
But oh god does it hurt more to walk your tender, soft body through that forest of pain
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
I feel my outsides crack.
"Please-" I beg. "I take it back."
A set of white teeth glisten.
Bad words, mad words, I still listen.
With your fingers you paint me purple and blue.
Each spot a slightly different hue.
Then in front of others I wear a mask.
"I'm clumsy" - I tell those who ask.
You are all bark- yet you bite.
I shiver in fright.
You tell me I'm small.
What am I to you, a nut?
Mr. Nutcracker.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
He strides up to my desk, beaming
like I'm the winning lotto
ticket he wants to rub off in his truck--
"Well, aren't you as cute as a button."
Puke creeps up my throat while
his creased eyes clearly try to
conjure the image of my naked
**** I thought I cleverly disguised
by a collared grandma blouse.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"
Heart racing from the effort to keep
my mouth shut and my cheeks
pale, I see other people
whisper, widen their eyes
at his use of "cutie" and "dearest"
while he winks repeatedly--
apparently a Morse code for
I'd-do-you-baby.
I practically feel the slime
slipping down my outsides,
but I give him a smile.
-because I have to-
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Breathe in,
breathe out,
there,
you have just successfully converted oxygen into carbon dioxide,
you have been productive,
you have done enough today to give the trees a job,
like a tired mother,
they go around un-doing everything you've worked so hard on,
In,
out,
muscles relaxing,
tension releasing,
carbon dioxide expelled,
diluted by the oxygen,
in,
out,
lungs burning,
legs aching,
quick,
sharp,
inoutinoutinout,
hands on hips,
bent at the waist,
a long red ribbon laying broken at your feet,
inoutin out in out in out,
calming,
slowing until it is normal again,
in,
o-,
your breathe catches,
heart beating faster,
eyes locked,
a great love epic in the making,
the carbon dioxide sitting in your lungs waiting for you to remember to release it,
screaming lungs silenced by a pounding heart,
insides so loud,
outsides completely silent.
OUT,
in,
out,
lungs comforted,
heart calmed by the brain,
continue walking,
normal,
in,
out,
the trees following behind you,
fixing all the air you have ruined,
and giving it back to you, once again.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 10:34 AM UTC
Burn your skin. Burn your throat
With a cup of gin,
Don't pretend that you prevent
A red glow searing in.
In your soul no control,
Through the skin and through the vein,
The edge of pain can drown it all,
And gin cuts the pain.
Cold as blade, then searing hot,
The words so soft and nice:
A carefree home, no lighting rod,
Before you struck it twice
Burn your soul
Because the wounds on the outsides
Are unlike the ones on the inside:
They will always heal.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
well, I'm a foreign dialect,
and musically uninclined, I'm the exoticism
fetishized by old white men who want a Greek-Italian-
Latina-Persian harem.
I am the the voice that doesn't match the body,
the long-limbed and quiet. My insides are not my
outsides, my tenderness with them won't
be afforded to you, not just yet. And I lick
the wrapper on every dark chocolate bar,
my O-mouth on every milkshake straw,
knowing I am being watched
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Only friendship.
You made yourself clear - clear as glass - that it could never be more.
But as I too am glass, a small shard of me broke off and shattered.
And why did it ignite my spirit to be in your presence, to be enfolded in your warmth
Why, why did it set my heart aflame, burn me with such flammable, incendiary envy
To see you lust after another, to want far beyond friendship with them
Why did that melt me
I was already committed to another, no matter if it was a dry, barren whisper of once-existing love or a forest of endless rain
It was commitment
Yet in spite of this, I continued to melt
Melting, right down to my core
Where I am just sand
Vulnerable, exposed, walked-on sand that could, at any second, be picked up by the wind and taken to another pit of uncertainty
But you
You dropped the empty attempts
And you began giving me your time
You showed me the naïveté that I am, and you took my hand and led me through a dark room
It was cold, and I was afraid
And you could not tell me that "everything would be okay"
Because this was real, unfiltered life you were motioning to before me
And though it was not a fully comfortable realisation,
The cold slowly thawed, from the outsides into my core, my sand
And as I thawed, as you too made yourself more vulnerable,
I at last began to take shape
Perhaps I have a calling
Beyond this fragile shell I consistently run back to for shelter, return to when it yearns back for my unearthed body to be protected again
But I knew better,
That when you molt from your armour,
Its purpose has been used up, and it is now just an empty shell, and it is time for that shell to be discarded.
And now, in my infantile flesh,
I trust that you can be my protector until my new shell can learn to harden
I am still unsure today if it has solidified,
Because I am focused elsewhere
Focused on you
My heart's every beat feels light at the remembrance of you
My mind's every thought a whirlwind
From the dissonance of reaching for you and being tempted to go back under the comfort of my old shell, from the knowledge that these two cannot coexist
But my soul, my soul is nearing soundness at last
Because with you here, I feel that my honest identity is at last coming to life
With you here,
Your breezes blow, but I do not fear that I will be carried away
Your shore arrives, but I do not fear that I am going to wash away
Though it was you who dared grind me down to my initial state of innocent sand,
You have sculpted me, even with the uselessness that I've felt I am
Shown me my potential
And made me a flourishing seashore.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
There was a certain comfort in the time I spent
Sitting against a wall outside in the cold
They don’t tell you what its like to freeze to death
But here’s what wishing you would is like
The trees sway with another chilling breeze
There’s a little stinging pain in my toes
Its been about 20 minutes out here
My feet are the only things cold
I'm thinking
Way too much about how the frost feels
My hands become red
a little icy itch not quite numbing my fingers
Another 20 minutes go by and I can feel the cold travel
I have no intention of leaving
I don’t want to
Maybe i’ll stay all night
An hour in my feet are cold on the outsides
My ankle is freezing
I adjust my earbud and look up to the sky
My breath can be seen in the air
I think about my mother finding my body
Bitten blue with winter
2 hours in and my feet are starting to ache
Its an interesting feeling
Almost like I’ve broken a bone but can’t quite feel it
I don’t want to be here anymore
Not outside, id love to stay in the icy air all night
But here, in front of my so called home
Filled with my so-called family
I’d like to be staying somewhere else
Somewhere where they aren’t
Somewhere where the people who care about me
Are all far far away
And if I die, they know in a few days
Not right away
If I’m sick they’ll send a gift card
And call so many times I’ll have to turn off the phone
So maybe I’ll just sit here
And let nature have its way with me
Because I'm not ready to go back in
And live in a “family”
Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022 at 12:46 PM UTC
You asked me to write
a poem that killed
all the parts of you
that make you love yourself less.
But darling, I don't
know if anyone's told you:
The things that make you
afraid to show yourself
make me love you
all the more.
And you may talk
about how much you hate
the bumps and ridges
splashed across your skin,
but you also talk
about how much you love
the mountains in Colorado.
Do you think that the earth
has ever cared
that it has drier parts
or areas with a little more texture?
Do you think that Nature
ever wanted to cover up
the parts of her that weren't perfectly smooth?
If the water stayed still,
and never rose or fell
the oceans wouldnt be quite so breathtaking
because waves would never crash.
And you might think you're covered in tsunamis,
disaster zones left in the debris of your disease,
but don't ever tell me
that a home in that aftermath
isn't still a home.
Because with or without the water damage,
the part that makes it important
is the things on the inside—
and no, I'm not referring
to things in a home anymore.
Now I mean your heart,
now I mean your passions and your past
and ever single word
written in the story of you.
So darling, you might tell me
that you hate the bumps on your skin,
but there is something amazing
spelled out in Braille
written on just the outside cover
of one of the greatest stories I will ever know.
The thing about Braille like yours is that
it can open the eyes of a blind man
without even needing any magic.
And the thing about book covers is
that you'll never really know
how much you love a book
based on the words on the outsides of it.
But darling.
I need you know know
I've read you cover to cover
and I absolutely think
your story is one of the most beautiful ones I know.
With or without the tsunamis or Braille.
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
let's take a moment
to peel back our skins,
and open up our muscles
and crack our bones,
and see if our insides
are as ****** up as our
outsides.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
***** feet
***** of them ache
they're dry
all dried out, moisture to face and digestive tract make little difference
but comfort a little sort of; maybe
subdue to replenishing
skip the pain with a drink fucken, fucken drink fucken
dust lingers in the brain, it swirls
a cloud of ground envelops the shape of u
u become covered
u have a layer,
salty,
and dry
and 'organic'
(surely bio (though im not sure what is or why are))
full city boy, suburban boy, not particularly gritty boy
along side hippies
and volunteers all tripppy
and unwashed, and un plastic
yet forcefully hemped
drunk of micro beer
and burnt brown and blotchy red
and wire-y
and dry
and matted
as if nothing really matters except for principles
misguided and randomly enforced
feel like a husk; peanut shell
insides swallowed by the mouth of the party embodied
a monsterous sweaty man tanned and thickly bearded
and beered
fat dreads fall around and surround u; a forest of hair
a circle encroaching of fuzzy pillars in fibres
entrapped inside them; feel their lingering time matted hold
a wealth of effort to become unkempt; they are bars
they are walls
and the FACE!
……………………… ………………………………… oh
looming down, wafts of armpit vapour cloud; a looming puft that surrounds
engorged by the scent as it circles u, the mouth that lowered onto u
chews u and spills bits of u
chomp chomp
protein for vegetarians; u; ur rigour ur vigour ur guts
eaten in a flurry of chomps and slurps and it crunches
and it grates
like the rocks on the ***** of ur feet it grates
u are digested
and reused
as they would like
but for them; for a collective u dived into
for fun
2 days to peddle ur wares
to progress ( admittedly through some days of regression…)
for all humans, and Humans; for fun
on monday we will repent
for the damages waged on the inside of the body
and the outsides too
for some gain
i guess on this which we settle
for always for display for fun
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC
Ever since my early days of youth
I've been questioning
All the hidden secrets of life
And exactly what it means
So imagine my excitement
When I climbed the mountain top
And asked the man of wisdom
Just what it is he thought
Where he said...
Life is like a toaster
With people dropping in and popping out
Some may stay in the heat of life for too long
And find themselves burned out
Life is like a toaster
If you're kept down long enough
The heat that's applied to your outsides
Only strengthens your inner crust
Life is like a toaster
Some people are shiny on the outside
But lift them up and what you see
Are the crumbs they leave behind
After all these years of searching
I climbed high enough to learn the truth
With the meaning of life now by my side
I knew just what I had to do
I went straight back home to my people
The ones that I could help the most
I started at the local breakfast diner
Where I ordered up some toast
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Why does my heart still race when I see you?
I saw you walking today, with your friend, and all I could think was "Wow. Is this what a heart attack feels like?"
Because I can't believe it, I was done. I was OVER you.
And instead my heart goes "Beep... Beep... Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEP," every single time you come around, like a freakin radar.
I am not a submarine.
I do not NEED for every single cell in my body to alert me when you're within 20 feet of me because, like I said before, I WAS DONE.
No! Don't you dare smile at me with your crooked mouth and shining eyes.
Because then I feel gross.
I DON'T LIKE THE THOUGHT OF BUTTERFLIES FLYING AROUND IN MY STOMACH.
That is disturbing and physically impossible.
My stomach acids would've killed them on contact. Don't try to make this crush cute.
So please, for the love of a Jesus Christ Super Toaster, don't do THAT anymore.
And by "THAT" I mean, don't make me love you anymore.
I can't stand it and I won't for any longer.
In church I was taught that having idols was bad, but that's exactly what you are to me.
A forbidden fruit
So I am praying to God that you are a mango because I hate mangos.
Their insides are too thick and outsides way too thin.
Which is exactly like you because you are a haywire of emotions, but I can easily peel you away to see who you really are.
Maybe I do like mangos...
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
My List of inspirations:
The sun that shines on me
it rises and sets
creating inspiring colors of the unknown.
The flowers that grow, bloom, share joy,
and sadly die away.
The Birds that sing, and fly in the wide open sky
making people want to sit and enjoy the outsides.
Music that surrounds me with joy
beyond belief and picks me up
whenever I pick up my guitar.
Stories and Books written so descriptively
the variety is never ending.
Horses and when they graze
such a calming soft sound
and when Horses whinny when they see you
and push up against you as if to say,"Oh, it's nice to see you again"
People and their strange ways, looks,
and personalities, no one is exactly the same
an inspiration for sure.
Family and Friends and their love for you
standing next to you even if the world isn't.
The ocean with it's waves and foreign creatures
so much more than land and so much more unique.
Dolphins and their kind eyes and playful ways
twirling out of the water making their exotic language.
Mantarays and Sting rays and the graceful flow in the other ocean creatures.
Beaches and the sand so smooth getting everywhere
it's in your hair, food, and all over your towel.
Summer even though it is short it is beautiful
and lively. Warm air and soft breeze.
Leaves, fall and summer they are still beautiful
with their colors.
Learning, history has our success and our mistakes
and people who are important.
Art, beauty in the eye of the beholder. The artist has the paintbrush
the creativeness creates strokes.
Wisdom, it is whatever you believe it to be. Wisdom comes in many shapes, sizes, and ages.
Peace, one thing the world has not held on to...yet.
Love, when there is love in the air all is well. Love is expressed in many different ways.
Imagination, Dreams, and Creativeness a land that is yet to be
discovered more.
Teachers, they something more than just school work.
They teach you how to survive life.
Poets on this site, I have learned so much from all of you.
Smiling and all who dare to share this joy! The most contagious thing known to humans!
This List will be ongoing and I will write something more when I find more inspirations.
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 7:56 AM UTC
There's a lot of ugliness in this world. In these four walls alone there's enough to talk about for hours. Everything can turn ugly when you look at it for too long. I started hearing voices in my head tonight. I know it's not me this time because I didn't know what they were going to say next, and I usually do. I'm so scared because each day everything gets more terrible and people become less beautiful than I believed they were. I'm so sick of telling the people I love that everything is going to be okay and I'm even more exhausted of them telling me the same thing. Because we don't really know do we? The demons that arrive tomorrow could make today's seem like a dream. I've seen it, lived it even. I've thought that I could never feel so terrible as I did in that moment and then get proven wrong later on. The worst is, I know what I've been through is not the ultimate worst. I know there will be so many awful times ahead and I can't fathom how I will be able to deal with them. We lose people we love all the time, people move on and don't need you anymore. Sometimes you still need them and that is the most difficult thing to understand. How someone can walk past you, past all your memories and all the love you gave them, are still willing to give, and carry on walking without a second glance. But you will grow out of people too. People that you swore you needed so terribly they were oxygen to you. And it's difficult to know what you stand for and what you believe in at 17. Everything is always changing and nothing is ever permanent. This ugly, ugly world is filled with lies and hurt and darkness. But there are so many lovely things that you have to look for. It's so easy to see the bad but you've made it seventeen years in this place and there are so many beautiful places and people to meet. And sometimes they will turn ugly over time and that just means you have to look for the next beautiful thing. We all need help, some a little more than others. You have to try to not be sorry for being here and only apologize when you hurt someone. You don't always have to be sorry for making the decisions you want to make, you are so beautiful and filled with kindness and love. It truly breaks my heart to see you tear yourself up and see the way you look at yourself. And nobody can make you believe that you are beautiful but you have to understand that you are. And I mean your mind and your heart as well as your outsides. You have to stick around, you have to stay okay? It's difficult and extremely scary but it's going to be worth it. Yes, the hurt that is coming in the future is inevitable. But it's worth it for all the love and wonderful memories and the adventures waiting for you. You are going to be okay. Everything isn't going to be okay, it never will be. But I love you and you can do it okay?
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
i don't know if my outsides are cold
or inside.
this heart always shivers
when it hears a name.
i am a body which never felt warmth
i am someone who controls their wrath.
i see the enemy with the coward's heart on their cloth
even when i am cold
every battle is meant to be fought.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
aristotle and plato were convinced that the circle was the heavenliest shape in all of creation. it was eternal. but, see, the ellipse is that much better. the oval is the imperfect circle, the imperfect shape that instead of having one heart has two, the sound of an open mouth as you gasp, the shape of fingerprint bruises.
the earth moves in an ellipse. all of the planets do. as we spin around the sun, you and i are planets. no wonder when i see you from afar, i can't breathe; we're just in space.
you are neptune. you are deep blue and stormy sea clouds that look like sweat and work, but you are mysterious and beautiful and so far away. when you are neptune, i am uranus, being pulled by the way you move.
sometimes i am saturn. i am swollen with the dust and dirt that make up my outsides. when i am saturn, you are jupiter: a friend who is bigger than i am.
we're space stations and metal, too cold to touch until we get hot from the movement of each other. we're satellites and moons and space-time fabric.
aristotle and plato were convinced that the circle was the heavenliest shape in all of creation. i think that they're so wrong. the shape of your hips, your words, your kindness, your taste, your mouth, your body, your creativity, your sweetness all end up tasting like eternity and heaven.
my heart beats in circles sometimes. but, when i look at you, my heart beats like you and i and ovals.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
28 strings hanging from above, teetering and creaking with each of my steps.
The wood below feels as if sand seeps into my skin, making the next heavier, and heavier.
When did the world decide to become so clever?
The marionette is unnamed although the disease is written clearly across the fogged bathroom mirror.
I avert my eyes from the truth as though I could never decipher.
A slap to the face and a fluid ounce of love is all it took,
two floating hands to fix my gaze upon all I could, my own life book.
I suddenly could hear the willows whipping and dripping wet in the rain outside the brook, I was no longer deaf to the pain I caused and took.
The mental games we play are never far from the outsides the lines of our life's coloring book.
Climb to the tallest line of the page with your grappling hook.
It only takes one outside and unbiased look and the keys to the castle are unhooked.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
I wanna spin aroun
Until I die
See The Sky
From the ground up high
Live Breathe Die
With all that stains
my insides
Revolts turns
Wuntil They are Outsides
Live breathe die
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 8:25 AM UTC
Hearts made of glass
Fragile
Bright
Translucent
Small enough to hold in the palm of our hands
The glass is expensive
Irreplaceable in fact
Each type of heart is crafted
Each in different shapes
Sizes
Curves
Carefully crafted and molded
From two other glass hearts
That became one
It is given to us
As gifts
The twinkle in our eyes
Glows as we receive ours
The glass hearts react
To many different feelings
In sadness it takes the coating
Of your tears
And when it fades it hardens
And becomes stronger
When anger hits it
The glass heart will melt
Unable to take the heat
In happiness it will twinkle
Allowing it to shine through
The eyes of others
But as we grow older
We begin to learn
How we care for our hearts
Some of us are careful
Holding our hearts dearly
Cherishing it
So that it can be
Seen by all
Reachable by all
Available to view and to see
The insides and the outsides
Some of us are careless
Recklessly lending it to others
Throwing it
Shaking it
Using it for the wrong purposes
Until one day it breaks
And it needs to be fixed
The glass is fixable but
It never quite returns to its former translucence
The saddest of all though is when
We pretend it doesn't exist
It's when the glass heart fogs up
Not allowing others to see inside
The twinkle once there disappears
Replaced with something solid
The curves still there
The size still there
But in actuality what made something there
Is gone
It stays that way
Until one day
It shatters
And cannot be repaired
The gift of the glass heart
Must be remembered
It is fragile
Which makes caring for it hard
And though we can hate it for its fragility
We love it because of its translucent beauty
We love it because it makes the eyes on others smile and well as ourselves
We love it because it's us
And it's us that should never be clouded
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Once again, I am not only alive;
But newborn-alive.
Antoine de-Saint Exupery tried to tell us
That besides having the solution to every riddle,
Snakes can also teach us
That we have always been the better creatures
For we shed our insides,
The only touchable things our souls produce;
Instead of our outsides,
And they come out of our only way in
To another soul,
And everytime they do,
We run after our breaths
Like the first time we learned
We actually need it.
We will really always meet ourselves here,
In this middle darkness where we first saw light
And made that womb-to-tomb pact of companionship
With what we came with to this world,
The same thing we'd leave with
Or leave because of,
And leave behind to cause a whole lot more
Shedding of insides
When we finally go the only way,
Which, all along,
Is back...
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
I like his voice, his laugh, the bravery that he unintentionally coaxes out of me.
I like the shape of his mouth and the softness of his lips.
I like the way that he walks;
hands in his pockets and facing the floor.
I like the length of his eyelashes and the freckle on his ear
that I once mistook for a piercing.
He is beautiful, so beautiful.
But the words that tumble from him are twisted and cruel,
He is not soft and golden like the hairs on the back of his neck
that my fingertips know all too well.
The butterflies in my stomach are trapped bats
which tear up my insides when he smiles at me.
I crave his outsides, as he craves mine.
He filled a gap, and now it is time for him to leave.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
I taught her how to handle a
Pellet gun tonight.
Now her eye is black from the
Scope, her fake fingernails chipped
From loading,
And the pine tree nearly stripped from
Cones outside my
Livingroom window, where our
Jägermeister
Cups made little rings on my
Brother's Longfellow hardback
Copy.
The night sky is bright blue this
Time of year in Norway.
Sun never really sets.
I looked up at the brightests spots
Beyond the moon, as she took aim
And fired with a subtle
Psstkh.
"So close," she whispered at the
Unwounded summer evening,
And I smelled her lavender hair
And all the warm outsides
As I thought of satellites and
Discoveries, and how moments
Such as this one would
Always matter
More.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
sometimes i feel like a citrus
lemon, orange, lime, or grapefruit
fragrant and flavorful
my insides bitter or sweet
and my outsides the exact opposite
high quantities of acid regardless
eat me raw
press my juice, i make a great 'ade
you may also preserve me in a marmalade
sometimes i feel like an apple
do not call me a crab tho
a globose pome
my outside has smooth shiny skin
my inside is sweet or **** yet soft
my centre contains seeds arranged in a star-like manner
i make great pies
but i also pair great with cheese
my versatility allows me to please
sometimes i feel like grape
growing from the woody vines
my flexibility is far and wide
raisins, vinegar, oil, and wines
i prefer to remain in a cluster of friends
im afraid to venture out
because i need them to sustain
sometimes i feel like anything other than me
i am tired of looking in the mirror
i have grown weary of what i see
so i pick flora and fauna
inanimate objects
weather and time
space and place
to rectify my existence
in some way that i can relate
at least when i list fruit
my belly aches with delight
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
I am like a plane
I read somewhere or heard somewhere
I think on NPR
about what it's like to see the world!
from a plane window.
Imagining is having the sights before you!
from a plane window.
The clouds and the blue blue blue
It's the atmosphere.
Dear God! You're actually flying
Except you're in a whites only plane.
Oh! If only it could be bottled and given to the masses
Ms. Marlowe introduced me to Prometheus.
To search for a way
to have what you imagine in yr dreams and in books and hopes
to be before you
is a ropebridge.
It only snaps in the movies baby!
If you're any different
and it snaps for you,
you got death.
Which is what you wanted all along,
no?
When I was a child my mind was ratchet like a plane in turbulence
it is rickety
the space between Trinidad and Tobago makes me readjust my insides and outsides
Climbing Climbing he shakes and flatlines
He becomes a hero he knew all along
Modern Medicine can make freed slaves become the mothers and fathers of the rice cripsies
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 5:14 PM UTC