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"unstitch" poems
Stretch me out and count me like clouds Say she is vapour Venom, velvet and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture Clutch the moments, clutch the moonbeams Clutch the stretched out skies of cloud and mustard gas sunset Sing she is a child of trauma Supressed in the name of breathing Violence in the name of skin And she is venom, velvet and vermouth She was born to pink salt lakes in the low country With ruby pomegranate eyes And hair of hazelnut rapture Girl with the soul of a thousand pilgrim journeys Girl with the soul of a blackberry bush Girl with the soul of olive trees and sheep meat and oven bread in the fire country Human smiles And other dark things of value She lies like velvet She lies in the name of supressing traumas In the name of breathing She bleeds like a billion stars bleed vapour She is venom and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture She is the sum of a thousand pilgrim journeys The prayer of holy rivers in the canyon country The smoke of incense burned by sages The scars of bodies burned by crusaders in mustard gas chambers Goddess of Nuclear energies Red-eyed like ruby pomegranates Like the dewy cauldron of morning When tenuous steps lead bodies down the path of executionary revolution To boarders, frontiers, walls of white-skin scar tissue Sing songs of Babylon in the free country Clutch the moments Clutch your breaths and hold them in broken palms Clutch the tides and teach them Breach your rib-cage, unstitch and return the borrowed bones Melt the metaphoric thrones Breathe backwards in the name of unsupressing traumas In the name of truth Stretch me out and count me like clouds Girl of angel-breath ambition Soul of blackberry bush and smile of splintered terracotta tile Sing your songs Say she is vapour
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
Self Portrait
Stretch me out and count me like clouds Say she is vapour Venom, velvet and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture Clutch the moments, clutch the moonbeams Clutch the stretched out skies of cloud and mustard gas sunset Sing she is a child of trauma Supressed in the name of breathing Violence in the name of skin And she is venom, velvet and vermouth She was born to pink salt lakes in the low country With ruby pomegranate eyes And hair of hazelnut rapture Girl with the soul of a thousand pilgrim journeys Girl with the soul of a blackberry bush Girl with the soul of olive trees and sheep meat and oven bread in the fire country Human smiles And other dark things of value She lies like velvet She lies in the name of supressing traumas In the name of breathing She bleeds like a billion stars bleed vapour She is venom and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture She is the sum of a thousand pilgrim journeys The prayer of holy rivers in the canyon country The smoke of incense burned by sages The scars of bodies burned by crusaders in mustard gas chambers Goddess of Nuclear energies Red-eyed like ruby pomegranates Like the dewy cauldron of morning When tenuous steps lead bodies down the path of executionary revolution To boarders, frontiers, walls of white-skin scar tissue Sing songs of Babylon in the free country Clutch the moments Clutch your breaths and hold them in broken palms Clutch the tides and teach them Breach your rib-cage, unstitch and return the borrowed bones Melt the metaphoric thrones Breathe backwards in the name of unsupressing traumas In the name of truth Stretch me out and count me like clouds Girl of angel-breath ambition Soul of blackberry bush and smile of splintered terracotta tile Sing your songs Say she is vapour
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46
A glimpse which drags me toward—that frothing moment Gasp; We’re almost dead—so nearly, nearly: WE ARE! Trite symbiloque and habadashed sorrows thread between devising motives for that handshake in the wash. Take me there, that empty shelter covering fears re-move sheaves one by one. Twisting back, a wave goodbye—glowering redemption and preempted desire trailer, hitch—inclined sleeves unstitch our spinning translucent halos and a magazine.
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Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 7:51 PM UTC
Intention
Maybe if I unsheathed the buttons so lovingly, slipped them from their beds like children doting under the breath of my fingers, I could be free unwrap these tendril sleeves unknot and untie like braided shoe laces child smile booming on my lips maybe I could slither out and under this jacket of rigid strait edge, maybe I could lick the clouds with my unclaimed hands bathe in unrestraint, Tug upon the chains of God’s grace Burn these walls and cut down the servants of white gowns and latex gloves those thieves and miscreants, Demons of pill born needles, Strip down my skin and carcass relinquish all of human trait to bore over them as the demon they boldly create, the ********* of razor bladed teeth, Leather based restraint, They so dutifully attempt to restrain me, I’ll finger paint with their brain splatter, just unstitch this jacket, rouse the children from their sleeping, unbutton them so verily gently, Please mother unbind my wings, coddle my wound, Mother dearest might I finally go to you
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Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:07 AM UTC
Mother, Might you Release Me
The machine's coldness seethed my hair as the world sat on my shoulder that made it surrender like curtains on a steaming afternoon sighing questions and endless uncertainty. I punched the buttom wrecked number 3 that bled Espresso which in this another night of your absence would keep me awake as I intensively unstitch the truth about your pathetically sewn inventions and attack the facts about the abnormality of your society and irrationality of your culture. I swear I ******* hate you. And someday you will die, *******
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Ten Little Indian Boys and Boys
i. on our first date, you ask if i want to learn how to fly. guiding my trembling fingers over the yoke, you introduce me to an old friend, a mechanical anatomy you’ve had memorized since you were sixteen. the first time your hands leave the two of us alone, you watch my terrified eyes and laugh. flying is the easy part, you say. ii. there was a time when explorers would name new lands after people they loved instead of themselves. somehow i’ve never found that idea comforting. it worries me that places out there exist that can wear my name better than i do. on nights when you’re gone, i spend hours trying to picture what an island looks like when it smiles. iii. even as she was bathed in the icy blood of a dying vessel, rose sang a love song to the stars. when i think of romance, i think of hands that dissolve into air so that hearts have to sprout wings just to find each other on the way down. i think of ships of dreams and flying machines. iv. these days, i have stopped waiting for the silhouettes of planes to paint demolition across the sunset. when i’m lonely, i play fleetwood mac records and spin around the apartment until i exorcize all the ghosts. i try to convince myself that when loving rhiannon, no one gets to win. v. on our last night, i ask you what the hardest part of being a pilot is. you unstitch your eyes from the cerulean-sewn skyline and look at me. landing, you say. your hand feels warm in mine.
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Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
come josephine
Close every door to the waist of space that I am, Push my plight from you mind And take all that you can I won't miss you But I'm certain you'll see That once I am gone You will really miss me. Drill out the poisons And shave of the trees Smoother the meadows and empty the seas. I'm not sticking around For the next act of man My ecosystems are bust I've done all that I can. I'll take the birds and the bats and the bees, I'll keep the bugs the shrubs and the trees, I'll unravel the wind from the rustling leaves It may seem worthless to you But it's priceless to me. I'll unstitch the patchwork off the rolling hillsides, the grass can be folded and the tree roots untied. You can pull out the flowers and plants crops in rows But don't come crying to me When nothing good grows. I'll pick out all the fish The flies and the frog I'll unpeeled the rivers and collect up the logs. The atmospheres filthy I'll just chuck it away There's no fixing that No matter how much you pay. I've salvaged what i can Of the soil and peat, Some has been scorched by the increasing heat, I'm taking the Beavers The wolves and the Bears I've pack up their lodges, their dens and their lairs. I've had enough of been trampled and torn My airs all populated And my earth is all worn. You can keep all your money Good look on your own Let's see how you get on without your ozone.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
Breaking up with humanity
We sat at the end of the stairway Outside your house past your garden’s gate Our lips moved whilst exchanging words Our gaze was vast beyond what ears are heard My outlines remained shivering and unstill We talked and talked draining our hearts once filled Our lips ran dry, craving for water’s bliss You then took my empty heart and leaned in for a kiss You parted, leaving me immensely wanting for more I held your hand and it pricked me like a thousand thorns Blood started pumping through and past my veins Into your chest, into your heart infected with pain I didn’t let go to you holding on Your lips stopped moving, your words drifted, it was done I touched you once more, pressing mouth against mouth Severing heart, this hurt more than our lips filling in the drought You pulled closer; it struck harder, slashing past before my skin I took hold of you, trying to stay stronger, mouth deeper than sin Hand in hand, it was sinking in; I’m falling down the rabbit hole again The stairway was gone, the gate, the roses, you were still there but I’ve lost a friend The garden gnome, he held the clock, time was slowly ticking away Bodies side by side, our hearts then stopped, it had almost seemed like it’s been days She and I, once innocent, now bare, with no more dignity to hide She whispered “come on Alice, don’t give up, we’re got our hearts to find” Scourged skin, torn dresses, unpredictably she smiled She said “I haven’t been this scared in a long time; it’s been quite a while” Our footsteps grew distant yet the clock continued to tick She lifted two roses obliviously, her eyes followed to the one I picked She held it close to her lips, sliding the stem past before her skin Blood started streaming down, there’s more than there has ever been Wounds started to unstitch, scars started reopening And with the greyest of eyes and the rose between her mouth, it slowly started unfurling She gave me the slightest smirk and approached me with an embrace I felt her warm touch draining inside me, the rose pricking me through And the was the last time, I ever saw her face n.j.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Wonderlust
We sat at the end of the stairway Outside your house past your garden’s gate Our lips moved whilst exchanging words Our gaze was vast beyond what ears are heard My outlines remained shivering and unstill We talked and talked draining our hearts once filled Our lips ran dry, craving for water’s bliss You then took my empty heart and leaned in for a kiss You parted, leaving me immensely wanting for more I held your hand and it pricked me like a thousand thorns Blood started pumping through and past my veins Into your chest, into your heart infected with pain I didn’t let go to you holding on Your lips stopped moving, your words drifted, it was done I touched you once more, pressing mouth against mouth Severing heart, this hurt more than our lips filling in the drought You pulled closer; it struck harder, slashing past before my skin I took hold of you, trying to stay stronger, mouth deeper than sin Hand in hand, it was sinking in; I’m falling down the rabbit hole again The stairway was gone, the gate, the roses, you were still there but I’ve lost a friend The garden gnome, he held the clock, time was slowly ticking away Bodies side by side, our hearts then stopped, it had almost seemed like it’s been days She and I, once innocent, now bare, with no more dignity to hide She whispered “come on Alice, don’t give up, we’re got our hearts to find” Scourged skin, torn dresses, unpredictably she smiled She said “I haven’t been this scared in a long time; it’s been quite a while” Our footsteps grew distant yet the clock continued to tick She lifted two roses obliviously, her eyes followed to the one I picked She held it close to her lips, sliding the stem past before her skin Blood started streaming down, there’s more than there has ever been Wounds started to unstitch, scars started reopening And with the greyest of eyes and the rose between her mouth, it slowly started unfurling She gave me the slightest smirk and approached me with an embrace I felt her warm touch draining inside me, the rose pricking me through And the was the last time, I ever saw her face n.j.
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36
skip me, shun me never touch me, don't give in to my rushed lusting bend me, break me just forsake me, leave me to my wild chasings lose me, leave me don't believe me, when I say you'd get me screaming haunt me, flaunt me mock and taunt me, tell the world you'll never want me grab me, stab me never have me, tell me how you cannot stand me fry me, tie me crucify me, leave me cuffed up; hang and dry me beat me, bruise me over-use me, ***** abuse and tear into me throw me, blow me get below me, show me how you'll never stroke me rip me, **** me tongue and take me, come inside and rearrange me cut me, gut me shame and **** me, rip my heart out while you **** me kick me, ditch me pull-unstitch me, spread my limbs and leave me twitching tie me, lye-formaldehyde me, out of sight and out of mind me, live your life while I am dying, pray no one will ever find me.
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 8:08 PM UTC
Hate Me
Wash me with snow, hail and water maybe then, I'd feel pure maybe then, my cravings would crawl away maybe then, my sins would sway away and perhaps then I could unstitch my lips and let out the years held of silence
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Oct 9, 2021
Oct 9, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
sigh
Loosen the wire, your time has expired, the only word left is “goodbye.” In my new dream the light's shining on me, little needles of sodium unstitch the seams of the sky. Hold your head higher, the heavenly choir is settling in for the night. And where I had friends I am left with loose ends; four hours of vision exchanged for four hours of fright.
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
The Velocity of Saul At the Time of His Conversion - Okkervil River
"If you love someome, let them go." Easier said than done. How am I supposed to let you go? How do I unclench my fists, how do I unhook my hands, how do I unstitch my heart? I was never good at taking things apart; I only ever knew how to keep them together. "If they come back, they're yours..." Coming back. This quote fails to acknowledge all the lost time in between leaving and returning. All the days that run together like a mess you don't know how to clean up, the weeks that pass agonizingly slow, the months that go by without ever hearing from you. I know how the quote goes, I know how it ends. Saying it out loud tends to turn my stomach and squeeze my heart until it hurts. I can't handle that possibility - the possibility of you never really being mine to begin with. It's a thought I won't let my mind try to rationalize. It's a theory I refuse to accept. You were mine. We shared four amazing years of laughter, of adventure, of love. The days went by quickly and the weeks passed with ease, each month came and went without any attention from us. Time didn't matter. It hardly existed at all. You were mine. I loved you beyond a reason why, beyond pride, beyond fault or mistake. I loved you regardless of circumstance and without obligation. I loved you so much it consumed me. I loved you, and you were mine to love. You were mine, but maybe I was never yours. "if they don't, they never were."
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Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
**** your quote
Ask me about my past I'll unstitch every seam Tear everything out and lay it all on the table A scrapbook pulled from a house fire I'll romanticize every bruise I'm interesting Ask me how I've made it this far I'll show you every "I'm fine" How I've welded it into an armor I can't take off I'll turn every "I wish you were never born" into the reason you fall in love with me I'm a liar Don't ask me who I am I'll try to tell you something from the heart, I will But if you close the scrapbook and look up You'll see that there's nothing left I'll try to be something I'm not for you But I'm nothing
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 1:21 AM UTC
it's back
*Smile, hold that ever-smile. Tonight, you will witness a brave star      Unstitch the shadows off his feet. He will high dive and unload The weight off his chest      Then burn himself gladly      Towards the law of gravity, Just to break the icy walls Of the heart you once thought Impenetrable, and you will smile, Sweetly, the smile of smiles.      But someday I will circle you,           One in six, seven on seventh,      Forevermore, and you'll hear me           Say I love you, then you will fall.* © 2017 J.S.P.
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
Walls
She stood next to me in knickers and a t-shirt, Needle and thread in hand with a grin between her legs. "I will unstitch your heart" she said, "And wear it on my sleeve so you never feel hurt again".
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Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
Part 1
To be shaped by love, know first How it destroys. To know how it destroys, Recognize love as a physical act. To recognize love as a physical act, Consider the body's limits and transgressions. To consider the body's limits and transgressions, Probe it for signs of anomaly. Of creatureness. To probe, start by using your fingers to poke Regions where illusions are cooked, like the groin. To locate the groin, slither your hand from mouth all the way down until you feel dirt. Once there, dig. The mush will feel soft and wet and grisly And delicious. Like exile. Feel around for a thin chord. Once you get your hand on this chord, pull. Pull very hard. Like you're born to unstitch. Or turn off a light. Or flush. Your body will split open like a thick *** of paper bills fresh off a rubber band hug. And your remains Will flutter like a flag. Notice the bone marrow in bloodspeck jangling in wind chime language to announce an arrival. Your arrival, maybe. But what is left other than your body splayed open? Notice your meatshop bargain delicacy. Limbs as vivid As a freehand sketch artist's depiction of alive. It sounds so beautiful, Love. Especially in Springtime.
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Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 5:55 AM UTC
Springtime
At night, When all my walls fall down And I start to strip my shields Layer by layer Tear by tear I unstitch my wounds And I find you there Under my skin You and my misery Misery that's caused by the fact that I denied myself the pleasure of loving you So many times That now I can only live with that fact That I can't act That I wonder If I stare at the phone long enough If I pray hard enough If I wish on the right stars at the right moments of time Will you recognize my existence Will I hear your voice And every atom of me jump when I hear you say you miss me What are the chances Of finding something you lost once again I wonder till my tears run out Till the sun rises And my walls are rebuilt And you no longer exist Till night.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
I miss you still
Two moons rise and one moon sets. Spotlight captures the one who frets. Caught unawares in pursuit of wonders. Tears drops stain the gloves of blunders. Slipped off to forget what we have done. The gloves decay under rising sun. One moon sets and another rises, while the sun departs with myriad disguises. If two moons were wed in sunlit dreams, would we forego our plans for all good things... Would pleasures unstitch our tidy strings and delay our minds for fallacies to sing. I admit I'm unsure. Nevertheless I will try, to wed the moons, to brighten the sky, but beyond the celestial weapons of love, an infinite yearning awaits our passion. For there are many moons in need of another. There are many suns that must shine on the two. For at the end of the day you and I do not matter. Wherever there is one, there must be two. So I say to her, I must be with you.
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Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:21 AM UTC
Disparate Ties...
you know just how to drive me wild requesting my favorite foreign gin at a frequented bar; running those fingertips over a label of dry red the same way you traced road maps on my hips last night. i put some love into the poems you gave me, can you tell by the creases in the corner? 10 a.m. tequila tastes like you and those crystal eyes that unstitch me; you unspool me into an amaranthine ravel of black thread --   exploring dusty corners, searching for what i've missed
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
Black Thread
I was wont to do What you want to do Won’t you want me, To be as wanton as you? I awaited your touch, but it did not caress, It sought instead a frightening abyss. Uncleaved was I, and sheathed were you, And yet, I felt plundered by you. You sank in deeper than beauty or bone your heart a loan, your heart alone Come, come, come till you dissolve Your sediments, grainy sentiments — Swirling within my own. But once you have settled, and I’m transparent The change in us is intimately apparent You bear in mind, my bare mind, And mine bears witness to your soul errant. Undress me, undo me and you will find Just another skin, of another kind A kiss, a touch, and a repetitive sin Memorable, forgettable, like all akin. So take me clothed, fabricated, and layered, Take me in suede, in laid, textured and tailored, Find me in seams, in pleats, in folds. Unstitch me, unthread me, and wrap me around your soul. Weave me a tale, tie me a knot. In yarns of hope, I yearn for naught But you left me undressed And you left me distressed, Shrouded in the unknown Of my threadbare unrest.
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
Snap Out of It --
It'd be that day, no other, to wait a mistake, she'd not change, Johnny knew that, known her for years now, temper like a stepped on rattlesnake, her eyes fixing like dagger darts. He smokes; lets the smoke settle in his throat, his lungs, stares at the bed, unmade, used, the pillows soiled by head and hair, the smell of her still there. To leave, to depart, unstitch the years, months, days, unstitch the mind and heart. He'd not tell her, just go, have no scene, or bellows or threatened suicide, best to go, leave her there, pretend you'll be back, see her soon, like night comes, like new or old moon. Johnny knows her all too well; a fresh horizon comes into view, new pastures to walk or seek, the old ,the past, the tried and tested, set aside, he exhales the smoke, watches dust settle, her voice downstairs raised, the radio pop tunes piping new and old rising up the stairs, he rises, stubs out the cigarette, time to go, to set off, with no regret.
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Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
WITH NO REGRET 1980
Heavy foot steps imprinted wooden boards though impressed by an absent soul an isolated mind, formed of intricate cords I am aching, bleeding through a lonesome hole My trembling legs stand before hollow eyes encircling me on dull rickety chairs I unstitch the fictitious smile of my disguise bare oppressive scares, all despairs To mirrors of indistinguishable faces tears seaping into the floor, for they understand the gripping pains and benumbing embraces the destructive limitations at hand For our dispirited faction of slumped backs anxiously awaiting for when the sun appears to fade our scares, dry the floors dampened cracks absorbing our souls of abounding tears. By, Melissa June
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC
Souls Of Abounding Tears
I undress and see nothing of me in the clothes neatly laid out next to each other to put back on underwear is underwear, trousers trousers if there is anything special about it it is just that there are no marks on it, I don't advertise I unstitch myself free pick the lint from my clothes out of my navel, the belly is cool, I feel myself, breast is breast, cheek cheek but my belly, that's me my hands know it better than my eyes that do recognise my face as mine, everywhere where I am, nowhere for sale but it is veiled now I am tired, I want rest having nothing to do with anyone and still love myself
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Aug 1, 2025
Aug 1, 2025 at 2:39 AM UTC
Dearme 1