Saturday, April 14, 2012

i spit

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
away

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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