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Literature
honeysuckle
i cant discard those sunsoaked flower petal days
the fragrance of the warmed rough sidewalk
and the air slipping past as soft as forgetting
honeysuckle bloom yields a small kiss of nectar
one that rolls and sings across the tongue in f major
and you would yield small kisses
and i would yield also
Literature
plague-bodied
i am a body of rat bones,
a post-panic attack,
(muscle) memory to
fester - the travesty
& specter, spectacle
in gold boots, bloody nose,
cut-throat.
& don't you
dare touch me;
i am eight months into dying.
Literature
blackbird
.
i.
i like to count your ribs when you're not looking.
the hollow dips, the gentle pressure they put on your skin.
you're underweight by a few ticks of the scale,
but,
so am i.
ii.
we both hate taking our medicine.
so my hands shake and your lungs ache,
but we just laugh it off because we're young and we have forever.
right?
iii.
you like different books.
that's okay.
iv.
we rip the pages out of our memoirs and cry on your bedspre
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im losing voice, im losing home
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Comments15
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... she's left in debt 3 letters.
I can relate to this so much.
Thank you.
I can relate to this so much.
Thank you.