"spun" poems
she wanted to be a blade
of grass amid the fields
but he wouldn't agree
to be a dandelion
she wanted to be a robin singing
through the leaves
but he refused to be
her tree
she spun herself into a web
and looking for a place to rest
turned to him
but he stood straight
declining to be her corner
she tried to be a book
but he wouldn't read
she turned herself into a bulb
but he wouldn't let her grow
she decided to become
a woman
and though he still refused
to be a man
she decided it was all
right
by Nikki Giovanni
S T ..... two's-day :) 17 dec 2013
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
who knew that in about
4 years time,
or maybe
10,000 years lost in
10,000 multi hued tears,
id be on the same trip-
dancing to the same
shimmering inner grove as before-
braiding fresh cut
flowers-
delicate genital-hands, unfolding in prayer
into my subconscious mind
or perhaps into my hair-
saving colored prism fragments
of knowledge or nonsense-
digesting intoxicating
incense smoke into the
deep throated green streaked
laughter chasms
that are my lungs-
spinning vinyl, spun mind
unwinding, undulating
through string music-
contemplating the sunset's sweet
immaculate form, reoccuring
and balancing itself right outside my window-
dressing in shells, bones,
and beads; kaleidoscope fabric dripping from
the ******* like mother Kali in a Fellini
flick-
peeping out at heads slinking down
the ****** pavement streets-
my hairy angelic form grooving
intensely, spastic-
body flung, strung out in
hot patterns of
mirrored arms and legs-
brain brew bubbling; wicked, fantastic-
limbs waving and grabbing at
tangible tasty morsels,
smelling strongly of indigo
and patchouli-
the East smiling on me and
my intrepid journey to the ocean city-
head thrown back in
tranquil madness-
pipe smoke curling like
ancient hound howls from the corners
of my lips-
smiles spread like insanity, a wicked disease
lost in the forgotten finger painted
confounds of creamy
****** milk consciousness-
basking in lamplight
of the golden glistening
Now.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Dusting off the rabbity
that squirrely tempo anxiety,
closing in with night.
The irresistible pattern
the irrational illogical fight
a battle with one’s discipline,
mirroring our might.
I make it home a fluttering
belly twirled and muttering,
I tell myself tis alright!
The damage done, and everyone,
I’m just like them and millions more
succumbing at the Devil’s door.
And the taste, the burn,
the healing calm,
the shaking and the thinking gone.
Knock one back, slam out another
night is early, rock it brother,
Tying on a swilly swirling
buzzed-out brain and mind a twirling. . .
“Ahhhh…”
I feel better now, exhilarated,
exasperation falls to stout resound;
I pour again and knock it down!
“Ahhhh…”
Spinning now, not to say I’m spun
but choosey choosing several a pun
I see myself an accomplished one!
Yes, that’s it, that is me,
look upon with thoughts of glory
yank open the freezer for glass that’s hoary. . .
How cool am I? certainly not boring
all night I’m here, pouring, pouring. . .
Buzz subsides, thoughts slow too,
lurid leering, slobbering swearing,
stupid actions and nothing new?
I lose the bottle,
I lose my shirt,
***** on myself,
pass out in dirt.
Another night of drunken hero,
time that’s wasted for kingly Nero.
But who am I to judge myself?
*I’m hardly worse than anyone else?* *
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
#*Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter
For this I wish forever
Strands spun with goddess gossamer;
softer than touch of mother
Your eyes dazzle with no glitter
For this I stare o're yonder
Locking jewels with coins of others;
Leaves throbbing chests emptier
Your form flows as gentle rivers
For this I grudge past swimmers
Glory bequeathed to the winner;
drown will the losing suitors
Your voice humbles angel choirs
For this I listen eager
Songs molding seraphs from satyrs;
in harmony with nature
Your being stirs wildfire
For this I bear the pleasure
Ethereal flames dance together;
fueled by spiritual tethers
You are my love light of summer
For this I waded winter
Glowing 'bove, spring was made greener;
blooming nascent desire*#
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.
Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.
A few were wrapped in tints of ginger.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.
Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.
The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in red.
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...
It is beginning...
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
death wants more death, and its webs are full:
I remember my father's garage, how child-like
I would brush the corpses of flies
from the windows they thought were escape-
their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies
shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass
only to spin and flit
in that second larger than hell or heaven
onto the edge of the ledge,
and then the spider from his dank hole
nervous and exposed
the puff of body swelling
hanging there
not really quite knowing,
and then knowing-
something sending it down its string,
the wet web,
toward the weak shield of buzzing,
the pulsing;
a last desperate moving hair-leg
there against the glass
there alive in the sun,
spun in white;
and almost like love:
the closing over,
the first hushed spider-sucking:
filling its sack
upon this thing that lived;
crouching there upon its back
drawing its certain blood
as the world goes by outside
and my temples scream
and I hurl the broom against them:
the spider dull with spider-anger
still thinking of its prey
and waving an amazed broken leg;
the fly very still,
a ***** speck stranded to straw;
I shake the killer loose
and he walks lame and peeved
towards some dark corner
but I intercept his dawdling
his crawling like some broken hero,
and the straws smash his legs
now waving
above his head
and looking
looking for the enemy
and somewhat valiant,
dying without apparent pain
simply crawling backward
piece by piece
leaving nothing there
until at last the red gut sack
splashes
its secrets,
and I run child-like
with God's anger a step behind,
back to simple sunlight,
wondering
as the world goes by
with curled smile
if anyone else
saw or sensed my crime
22.4k
I was a caterpillar ,
before I became a butterfly .
The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today .
This is my tale .
In the forest there was,
My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk,
With a power to live in a colorful world.
To dream and conquer goals.
A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk
Growing and maturing as I spun.
Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings,
Counting the days to be free and soar
as a lively butterfly
until
You winded into my community
Lured my queen and her uneven monarch.
Tempted to sabotage my purity.
For that you,
Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon
with that trust,
you decided to disrupt my process.
How can one man ruin my nesting site?
And I had faith in you ,
to be a figure
I never had.
I wanted.
My heart ached for it.
I needed it.
To be loved .
To be nurtured.
To never be like those stray dogs
looking for a home.
This was the moment .
Where....
Innocence stripped, heart captured.
My Freedom gone.
You were naive to comprehend
On what you were doing...
You would stab my cocoon
with your sickening poison .
Over and over you stabbed .
Ruptured the veins of my innocence .
To break my finest silk .
Purity banished.
Stabbing your poison was
Making my cocoon
useless ,
worthless ,
unwanted,
colorless,
I tried to run and I tried to scream
but I was devoured by this poison
It was the love I deserve.
Couldn't escape , numb to the pain
For every poison injected, I began to
Question God?
Where was he ?
when I shed out a tear of help.
Where was he?
when my cocoon was destroyed.
Was I loved God?
when I muffled help in your name.
I hated myself ,
I stay in my cocoon
afraid to see my future.
I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly
Battered Butterfly
My life seemed to be colorless
No one wants a battered butterfly
My life....
It seemed it had ended
when poison sunk onto my helpless body .
No one wants a battered butterfly
Imprisoned to these chains.
Being poisoned every night by different
Predators.
Oh God....
Those predators ...
Battered lifeless little butterfly
Was I ever loved in my nesting site?
But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly
How can I reach to heaven when
I was worthless.
Believed I was a vile *****
Tricked into a poison of hell.
Battered Ugly Butterfly
***** Little butterfly*.
There was no light in tunnel
There was no holes in my silk
To escape this poisonous nest.
Why?
Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly
How can the man I trusted ruined me.
I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch .
To complete the missing piece.
But you continued to misuse me.
To haunt me.
To barricade my heart
To own my soul
But one thing I can truly say
You never once won over me.
You never imprinted my change.
I endured your pain
That was a sign of God
To show me what strength I am capable of.
That was the light that I found,
You had no control to inflict pain anymore.
Because I became impervious to your pain.
I am a beautiful butterfly
reigning over my monarch
with no thought of you.
That is my freedom
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
.
I've stared...
Longingly forever into you
You'd stare back but you never really knew
Hands of hours, minutes and seconds I've shook
All the time I've carelessly took
I've witnessed...
That etched on each one, that amazing smile
A crutch forged of sunrays that had carried me many a mile
It's all that I have to know of you
In this endless chase I've sought to pursue
I've envisioned...
Different ways you'd wear your crown
Various trimmings on lavish gowns
Smitten by the way you sport your paint
The nectarous song sung in your gait ever so faint
I've imagined...
The addictive rise and fall of your every breath
Bringing me back to life after every death
Pulses of sweet nothings that never did ebb
Ensnaring my heart with your silk spun web
I've believed...
You are the queen of my future tale untold
I've felt it so real like verses written in bold
But I've awakened from slumber into terrifying reality
Pains me to realise that you're nothing but imaginary...
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Dear Soulmate
I'm pretty sure we've crossed paths before, just unassured of the spot
But I know you've already forgotten
How I look or how my name sounds like
Just another wallflower within your area of sight
Dear Soulmate
It's pretty weird for me to have you here as well
A bit restless, I don't know if you can tell
After being spun around the other way
By you who caught me in his arms and let me stay
Dear Soulmate
It almost feels like I have a debt to pay
Only to be fixed by paying attention to you
One burden I don't find myself to be in dismay
For I know that somehow, you carry the same load too
Dear Soulmate,
I am not in love with you, let's make that clear
I have learned not to after all these years
From many a chance encounter broken by this mere
Emotional "commitment" shrouded in unvoiced fear
See, I can not be caught in the teeth of romance
For it has bitten me once, let's not give it another chance
to ruin something good, I know you'd understand
So let me keep my distance now, before it catches me with its glance
Dear Soulmate,
I hope you feel the same
As I write to you, it may sound insane
Let me explain, before things turn twisted
Why I can't let you be one of them in the end
The problem is when my soul finds a mate, it ***** it dry
leaving it dependent for it to thrive
I see yours basking in freedom, a wonderful light
So I won't say goodbye, but rather, goodnight.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift
Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust
So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait
Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn
A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool
Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine
Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all
The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes
Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon
June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
She was born of a forest
And rests her heart
Shallow in pooled dreams
Dripping further than her tears
Falling to soft earth.
She eats rosed lilies
And pickled cattails
All while
Her footsteps leave no absence known
As her lithe nymph body melts into foliage.
And her arms permanently reach
Into the void of
All unknowable things.
Grasping at gossamer threads,
Like thoughts that can't be spun together.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
The world spun a bit too fast maybe
that the lipstick marks turned into cigarette scars.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
upon the elephant rode a boy prince,
his royal command, he was there to evince.
dark with grace and dripping with youth.
bringing his men, his crown and his couth.
town after town he strode fierce through the gates.
and any detractors were left to cruel fates.
and on one windy day, as they strode into town.
the faces where tenfold and a hush passed around
the grey of the creature with knowing black eyes
swayed left towards the crowd as if to capsize.
and the mass gasped in horror; bairns seized by their mam.
men flung at young ladies, babes pulled from the pram.
the bewildered and flustered
tired elephant sat.
in the center of all on the bald pastors hat.
the old pastor looked stunned to see such a disgrace.
until he remembered, and composed his face.
'your highness' he bowed. his manners restored.
but the poor prince was toppled his mighty seat floored.
they gasped for the prince, just really a child
dressed in fine silks on this elephant wild.
pastor said, 'here now' extending an arm
hand wrinkled and gnarled from the land that he farmed.
then the guards sprung to life as if sudden awake
guns point to the man of whose life they would take.
and just as they squinted their eye for the aim
a boy sang out sweetly, 'sire he's not to blame!'
and the prince from street where he lay in pool
held up his hand and recovered his rule.
he looked at the crowd and he said 'boy now speak'
the boy said, 'prince it is the prayers that you seek.
the prayers that you'd visit. the prayers that you'd stay.
lord must of heard them and granted this way.'
his eyes wide with truth and the love of his church
the prince laughed a beautiful belly filled lurch.
the carriage was called as the prince shared a feast.
and even some water was splashed on the beast.
such a good time as he danced and he spun
till the horses arrived in the dust of a run.
to thank the town and the lovely haired boy
the young prince gave up his own precious toy.
the beast stays quite put in the center of town...
but prayers said no more...so the prince won't fall down.
sahn
04/10/2014
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.
Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun.
Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.
Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.
Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets;
Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats.
Belfries that buckle against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
15.8k
she put my heart in a jar.
wait here until i return, she said.
i waited two forevers for her to open it, my heart was suffocating.
i was drowning in her memories, her eyes danced like fireflies in the moonlight. timeless passion. she is my flower child.
flawless. my heart is in a cage, solitude sedates me. i recall memories we never had or maybe it was visions of a future we will have?
i sit down with a notepad and admire your movement. i pen down my studies, and try to understand your complexity. your face glows, your waist flows. like the beautiful Victoria Falls, African queen.
i digress, you still have my heart in a jar. open a few holes, my heart is suffocating.
hair like Rapunzel, fine spun gold, only love knows our connection. time is but a teardrop in our moments.
on my notepad, is stories of what i think you could be, yet my imagination is far from your real being.
your shadow is unique. i can see it dancing under the stars, it tells its own stories. faded, i am.
im loving, your heart. keep moving, beauty. i love you. stop arguing with your mind, you’re beautiful. every man knows.
o, to be young and feel love’s keen sting.
beauty.
je t’aime. belle âme, mon coeur appartient à vous.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
*Intimate surprises
spun
from thin air.
Precious metals
forged
to last an eternity.
Unwavering.
Uncompromising.
Unapologetically bold.
Unlike anything else.
The incomparable thrill
of one-of-a-kind.*
/ Alexandra Mor
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
Naive little waterdrops never knew
What they were, what they could do
Upon their downfall they saw the sun
The sun shone bright and magic spun
A band of colours poured from the drops
Exquisite scenery high above the crops
Bright old sun had till then just burned
It saw then the rainbow the drops had churned
It saw its own reflection in the colours that appeared
It saw itself caring when it had never cared
It made the water shine when it fell from its height
It showed the drops too their very own might
Dear old sun makes rainbows everyday
It still burns and still makes the drops gay
The water never fears and takes on the fates
As long as the sun shines, a rainbow awaits.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Paint the night sky with twinkling stars, distant from one another but collectively emitting a spectacular glow;
Paint the spun ivory clouds across the interminable blue, watching the softness suffocate sunlight streaming below;
Paint your frayed chocolate braids beside curved, smiling full lips in the middle of a vivid, adorned cottage;
Paint the passionate red of blood that stains our hands as they clasp together like imperfect puzzle pieces, and the jagged breathing that fogs the dusk;
Paint yourself where you are loved--
Paint yourself with me.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 3:46 AM UTC
if ever there were
gods or goddesses of desert
of the drylands
of parched earth some call home
they would be surprised to learn
of the miracle of
this Spring deluge
unfurling forth
from deep within
the crusty dermis
of this sublunar territory:
hydrangea and ***** apple flower,
intermingling their hues
of mauve and lilacs,
as well as the color of sky
blooms of the succulents
popping open
in celebratory dance
in wild fuschia
sunray butter:
a dazzling botanic trance
hollyhocks of magenta,
veils of bougainvellia, too
sweetpea clusters
curling in the trellis
weaving heavy-scented magic
through and through
a private orchard of lemon tree, and apple
olive and pistachio grove
One would not guess
the endless giving
of this desert treasure trove
And I feel like a goddess
of mythology softly spun
like Demeter, or Ceres
ancient Egyptian Renenutet
my hands spread out
in the licks of gentle sun
for as spring pours forth its honey
all through this barren land
I , too reawake
and flush out all the infected,
dust-scratched sand
I welcome in
the waters of abundance,
of love, of light under stars
let new energy wash out
old poisons
my radiance spilling far
Reaching out unto the Universe,
cradling this heart
I cup the buds of blooms,
of nectar
to inseminate my dark
allowing me
to release the past
and seed within me, lit
the atoms
of new
start
unfolding bit
by tender
bit
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
I was with the ocean last night and your body
Was its vessel, overflowing. Words were frail,
Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky,
Water reaching for its own height and breath,
Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged,
Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they
Disappeared in our hands. Inklings of tide-
Pool and driftwood.
My blood was a river that ran
Its course. Members feeding your deltas and birds
Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas
And inverness. Eyes like wing through ever—
Green, empties the fossil shell. Fire, brimming
Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia,
Sleeping. Did I mention that the earth moved?
No? Her displacement was involuntary.
Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout
Time. The scent, searching for its identity,
The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean,
O— cean. And flowers, opening like galaxies
In the after-light. A universe of face and hand
With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud
Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent,
Deities, in joyous creation.
I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
The gentle reaches of the late afternoon sun
I'd bathe in this light abundant reverie
Swaying breeze... Caressing the web we've spun
In the warmth of this amber coloured spree...
Shades of gold, stretch beyond observable measure
My vision could only take me so far
Shining through between the green and azure
As if the window of heaven left slightly ajar.
Swathed in the glow... Laying on a bed of green
Eyes closed... Under the blue that spanned forever
Feast for my senses thus honed keen
Relishing the lingering touches of her radiating amber.
She's finally dipping, taking all of her light...
She'll sink behind the horizon, descending gracefully
I'd still remember all through my night
That amber...
Amber is the colour of her energy.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
perhaps a subject already well covered. but I consult no one else,
who can expertly summon the artificial artifacts, no better yet,
art~iN~facts of prior expert~tease, and speak only and wholly
for myself, blatant, and openly undisguised
it is the spilling, the upward sensory explosive detonating,
in a pressured chest, the eagerness
to race, to complete,
find the next line, to define, to refine to get the balance tween
elegance and simplicity, to have the ******** sensory totality
of completely having spun off a piece of me and let it free float as a balloon, that may fly to China or get stuck on a telephone pole
just beyond my front door
=============
^ I write this midst the composition of another poem, wherein
unusually I feel the need to pause, collect my thoughts which are bombarding my atoms internal, causing a new fissionable element,
distinct and unique, my poem…next…
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
Allow me to steer you from this endless road of monotony
to a luminous land
where you will be bathed in an effervescent afterglow
Created by a realm of invisible possibilities
spun into the iridescent colorwheel of hope
Ataxia
Melt into my embracing arms
as I lead you through a state of comatose
I will guide you to the kaleidescape
And you will
Understand
How encaged you have been
by the life presented
By the fearful and the small
So enraptured by the mundane
So afraid to rearrange
I understand the temptation .
Believe me
I understand
But allow me to explain how the ultimate risk you take
Is when your fear of not knowing
is why it all remains the same
mp
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
My body spun
From one side of my garage
to the other.
In between the pillars of poles
creating space between the cars
parked in the two car garage
perfect family, right?
not even close
I unlaced my skates
tossing them in a case,
unorganized as my chaotic brain
I leaned down to pick up
a mess of what looked
like plastic
like a broken water container
crushed by the weight
of a basketball tossed without looking
being the good girl I was
I picked up the charred plastic
placing it in my hand to
throw it in the trash
I dropped it in the can
letting the pieces fall
one
by
one.
As I wiped my hands
I found a piece I had forgotten
it had the label of Prego on the side
I realized then
It was a broken spaghetti jar
I ran upstairs
to help with dinner.
I asked my mom
what I could do to
She said
"You can run that blood
under a cold water faucet"
I looked at her confused, saying
"Where am I bleeding?"
She turned my arm over
showing me the cut
glazed over my forearm
I hadn't even felt it
I didn't know
that was the moment
I would find an advantage
to not feeling pain
and an interest
in the impure
realization
that bleeding
wasn't scary...
that it couldn't hurt me
as much as the rest
of my life could.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC