The language drifting from my lips
follows a current I can't predict.
It springs deep from within my lungs,
catches on the crooked banks of psalms,
erodes mountains of indecision,
while polishing rocks with new rhythm.
Tag: Poem
Last Resort Remix
After Papa Roach Cut my womb into pieces! This is our last resort! Ovulation, I'm bleeding! Don't give a fuck if your shitty God's seething! This our last resort! Cut my womb into pieces! This is our last resort! Ovulation, I'm bleeding, don't give a fuck if your shitty God's seething! They don't even care if I die breeding! Everything's wrong. Nothing's right. Whose going to take my life tonight? Chances are the Senate might. Mutilation out of sight. They're contemplating matricide! 'Cause they're losing sight, they're losing cash, I wish the stock market would finally crash. Losing they're sight, Losing they're cash, I wish the stock market would finally crash. When will they realize that we're spread too thin? It's too late now, maggots crawl underneath my skin! Abandoning! Starving in silence among senseless violence. I hit rock bottom again and again. Where do I even begin? It all started when I lost my sisters stars snuff out at night hands covered in blisters. Understanding! Their pain is the same as mine, their blood is mine. Their flesh pulled from the wires. Their bodies slump over, set out to expire. 'Cause they're losing sight They're losing cash I wish the stock market would finally crash! Losing they're sight Losing they're cash Wish the stock market would fucking crash! Everything's wrong. Nothing's right. We're hiding, and dyin'. We're dyin', we're dyin', we're dyin', we're dyin'. I can go on this way! Cut my womb into pieces! This is our last resort! Ovulation, I'm bleeding, don't give a fuck if your shitty God's seething! Everything's wrong. Nothing's right. Whose going to take my life tonight? Chances are the Senate might. Mutilation out of sight. And they're contemplating matricide. 'Cause they're losing sight, they're losing cash, I wish the stock market would finally crash. Losing they're sight Losing they're cash I wish the stock market would fucking crash. Everything's wrong. Nothing's right. We're hiding, and dyin'. I can't go on this way! Can't go on this way! Nothing's right.
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Somedays
Somedays I wake up covered in the blackest ink. Viscous it clings to my skin, an oil stained second skin, dripping from a bleached bone white ceiling, slicking my hair down upon my tender-headed scalp. Somedays, it takes the effort of Idiyanale, of Oshun, of Jesus to pull me out of the pit of tar, as the substance drains me of breathe and water and light. Somedays, the ink seeps in so deep and fills me to bursting, to breaking, to shaking, and pours out of my eyes and mouth and onto the clean ground.
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The Coldest Days
The coldest days you’ll ever see aren’t the winter daytime freeze. Sure they’ll have you blue as ice but honey that’s pleasure, that’s nice. No, the coldest days you’ll ever … Continue reading The Coldest Days
Learn from the poppies
Wild poppies grow not in perfected gardens but in desturbed earth.
United
These United States cannot reconcille with wisdom, justice, and love. These United States cannot reconcille with wisdom, justice, and These United States cannot reconcille with wisdom, These United States cannot … Continue reading United
I’ve read what you’ve thought
I’ve read what you’ve thought of poetry and prose of singers and ‘hoes of lovers under covers of killers, spine chillers I’ve heard what you said of beauty, and human … Continue reading I’ve read what you’ve thought
A crow infested cypress
Pregnant with murderI stand tall as black feathersFall onto my roots.
To be alive
Is to be awkward uncomfortably stumbling to uncertainity
April Haiku 30
How much meat was gained from one life? What of the fat? perfectly marbled?
The Literary Dragon 