i was so sad. only my most
choice sweet dark organs were tethered with
blue yarn and i could not trace
its beginning, could not find its end
and had no knife to saw it all ragged
i was so angry. in my prettiest yellow dress
i was cruelty wrapped like a half-gift.
i was so angry.
i don't want to be your lover. if this is what
it feels like to be your lover i don't want to,
why would i want to, i only have a taste
for sweet pain, this bitter vile
horseradish pain, i choke it back up
i spit it onto your chest
i don't want to be your lover, it's like
bleach on the scalp, it feels stupid.
i don't want to feel stupid anymore.
there is an eagle in the tree.
thick and winged.
why should i love you.
like a false prophet
you were manufactured by a group of men
overseen by a group of men
the approving nods of the heads of men
i choke it back up, i spit it onto your chest
i choke up this vapidity and spit it onto your chest
if we are all worth our weight in shit
you're just more shit than me
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- for a barrow
- Amanita Muscaria
- Heart of Thorns
- jesus was a crossmaker / dear emily
- earthly unearthly
- a new kind of baptism
- "You will say that I am not Robin the Hood, but ho...
- we the smart ones we are stupid we've been told fo...
- it hurts me
- i spit
- poem for my friend
- Julian From Far Away
- Little White Flowers in a Bowl of Blood
- i feel old
- curiouser and curiouser
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