heart felt blunt words
I wont gag
when pus fills my mouth
or when they scream
about it
I won’t do it
and
I won’t drool
at all
no saliva will meet the floor
or saturate the sheets
on my feet
I won’t do it
and
I can get through it
needles hooking skin
sinking in
I won’t do it
I’ll get through this
little pretty one
glowing skin silk, nothing but
rippled protection
pretty one left years ago
with teeth lined up in a smile
a splinter of flame
hanging out of your pupils
sending electric pulses through my body
like a piece of gravity weighting on my bones
pressing the tips of my fingers
egging me to burn it
until the grass catches fire
and the ashes
and the embers
are but a fragment of the fire
worthless char for the worms to eat
the earth will become fertile
with the flames you passed
the grass blooming into bed of meadows
my heart in my stomach at the thought
tripping over the world racing toward the flicker
leaving friends between the lines
dreaming of halter dresses
becoming less of who I was
my head down in the back
more foot down
a cunt
I’m seeking something to live for
not something to hide behind
her face felt like silk
on the real housewives of slab city
carrying a mouth full of dimes
in a plastic bag
and a blocked airway
her face felt like ecstasy
a handful of mouth dripping
grey wool suits counting
posters falling off the wall
when the clock strikes midnight
her face gave me energy
choking
mouth swollen
arms woollen
perfect timing
drip marble floors with your blood and do not clean it up
let them step through it
on their endless search for the first aid kit
they want try and heal your hands
and feed you blocks of ice
do not take their pity or
their medicine
The sandstone edge beneath my feet is floury dust,
that’s craving only water.
I tighten the weak muscles in my core,
hoping to stay strong and
hoping I lose my footing.
In the summer it was firm.
The sun ran through my blonde hair,
and past the curves in my skin.
My shoulders were soft and I dressed in carnation,
billowing and light.
A hot breeze caught beneath my wing,
and placed my toes centred on the lip.
It’s getting cold now and,
the leaves are turning.
They slice back and forth as they fall off the trees,
the wind urging their ears.
Forcing them into sticky black corners
where they will fade to brown and begin rotting.
The precipitation threatens paralyzation.
Heavy clouds will fire off ice bullets,
forcing the earth to dance.
its me
i’m really here
I am mouth-dripping
and
more bat-shit than you
she’s ashy grey split ends
bearing long acrylic fingernails
that slide and tick along the tampered glass
it’s bare flesh
and
it’s
really-really stimulating
all burnt up
your pieces too jagged
for mind spinning sobriety
the hard shards blooming with flame
gagged with
dripping
viscid
physicality
it’s your amputated leg
stitches
a terminal diagnosis
the medical nightmare
that perches on your chest
acrylic nails break the skin
with lock jaw force
heart spilling blood into your body
it’s fast-fast-fast
little and angry
so very fucking angry
nothing is perfect in this world
I was raised on cable and crockpot cooking and black beauty
learned its nothing but terror now
little and angry
big and scary
blindly into the night
with no home cooking
a real artistic type
wet and red and sharp
is it now or never?
down and flooded and alone
eye contact
yours or mine?
bloody and beautiful and shy
is it her mommy or daddy?
gutted and depressed and soft
ignorance, or bliss?
Starrfishing 