"viny" poems
The woman who had her wings clipped in a car wreck showed me how to swallow truth deep into my throat, how to pull it out with minimal damage - told me being a circus act is easier than being a good person. And it is! worrying about money isn't apple pie, worrying about appearances, disappearances, alien encounters, trafficking, scamming - all so sticky they causes me to gag. When you worry you lose sight of the trophy buck... Which doesn't matter to me, it's your video game - its hooves are in the field, stomping pumpkins and viny gourds to mush.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
A craving sits deep, heavy
in my stomach
And slowly crawls up, up
into my throat.
Spreads its arms out and
Wraps its viny fingers around
my collar bones.
Rests its left elbow
on my heart,
Casually.
I try to feed it but
It rejects my offerings.
I'm trying my best I tell it.
This isn't what I want! it hisses back.
What you want isn't so easily attained
Then I guess you'll have to starve it says
as it takes a bite
of my inside
and grins.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC