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Literature
sometimes, I'm a fire
I like myself best huddled
between broken thought and sky,
when the sun stretches just tall enough
to ignite my hair in embers.
I pretend it makes me lions,
and that I can roar and smile, all teeth
and bones and not afraid of anyone…
but a glimpse of my reflection, and
I scramble under covers.
And sometimes when I shine a
flashlight down my throat, that’s all
I see: corrupted caverns and the ghosts
of pills burning through my vocals…
but I spat them out six months ago,
and I’ll be damned if I give in
so much again… but more than that:
there’s fear.
I never wanted to be someone
defined by narr
Literature
you talk like a travesty
oh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
Literature
Bad Mouth Habits
i.
I carry God around in my lip like he's chew,
spitting his name out in poems like potholes,
I make everything a simile
for the hold he has on me.
ii.
When it comes to men,
I've the appetite of a Roman housewife,
I take, I taste, I tear,
swallow and then then toss up
for the next course.
iii.
I don't kiss anyone so dearly
as the glass pipe bridged between lips
and fist.
iv.
Jameson, you're an Irish Lad,
a young ram of bucking proportions,
I let you rattle around my mouth
til I herd you in
and down.
v.
Sometimes there's nothing so sweet
as the jack-hammer of angry words
or the steel trap clamp of silence.
I exercise m
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