The rats and I had agreed I would break their curse and they’d let me free. Of course, they never
Tag Archives: poetry
Every Seed/a World
My body is an earth of liquid with its oceans rising, the cool detachment apathy is melting
Testing Anxiety
Pressure to perform no pleasure or conform sure, my soul’s a storm in every heated prickle of my skin, the thoughts swirling up my brain (like this thought (and this thought too ( this thought (and this thought too( PARENTHESES BREAK))) psychoanalyze the direction my iris flies can’t escape the way my gaze slides downContinue reading “Testing Anxiety”
I keep calling for this rain
If you quell the pain, prickles remain, and I feel so detached from the past, I could be a stranger in the memories of danger, like they burn a different skin. I wanna heal from the thunder squeal, but my midnight brain plays the game “How can we twist imagination’s eye to warp this pictureContinue reading “I keep calling for this rain”
Ruse/never lose
“It seems we’re at an impasse,” the blankets told the rats, “I won’t free you until you promise to let us out that door.”
The truth the rats told
the truth the rats told is not the truth I asked for. I asked why they didn’t stop the bullies and if they were lying to me about the curse but they just said watch out for that codependent demon in your arms
frag
The tips of my toes drown in the bathtub do you think hawks get lonely, when their main relationship is predator eats prey? a hawk, a pigeon, and a hummingbird flock into a bar my roommate’s getting on my nerves, taking out her day job on me if this book flops, what’ve I got toContinue reading “frag”
Blankets with the vertebrae still on
I went to classes the next day and nothing changed, I got seven snot wads on my dress and borrowed six pencils from the library that all broke and someone’s wings landed a bruise on my head
rin run run/rin rat run
outta the haze light fleeing demon fire, they said they’d tamper with my memories if I chose to leave but like I was air I went creeping through the magic lair to flee when I should’ve been sleeping
The Road Signs to Progress Say:
And the road signs home say: speed limit thirty-five, next turn to Donner Drive, no parking any time. And the glare through the window’s seducing a headache, while the a/c won’t blast air cool enough to keep the sweat from swathing my back across the leather chair. And this concrete wasteland keeps expanding, speed limitContinue reading “The Road Signs to Progress Say:”