with a heavy heart. |
only the part that catches v2Cats have rough tongues and when they lick you, It's like scrubbing your skin with your little brother's velcro shoe,only the part that catches v2
But only the velcro part, and only the part that catches.
That's always what cats’ tongues are compared to,
But when a cat is licking you it's all you compare it to,
Licking at you as though she's trying to scrape away cold skin to reach your veins. She’s soft and she’s warm and she nudges against you, Ever reminding of her presence but it’s not as though you were ever going to forget. And she must love you too of course because she is so attentive,
riddlesa clear plastic cup and pretentious dopples of afternoon humidity and an orange straw, bitten as though taken anxiously.riddles
maybe it was dropped there carelessly and frustrated because there are no trash cans nearby, and carrying home an empty cup would only remind you of something you lost, and walking home in heavy sighs would only be suffocating.
maybe it was dropped by a girl, maybe it was dropped by a boy.
maybe it was dropped by a mother, because her three year-old son was asking for candy or a toy or his father or food, mama, i'm so hungry, and she dropped it, because what he wants is something she
achingi think i need new knees because mine are unkempt in prune-colored bruises.aching
i think i need a new stomach because this is just
hopeless, trying to bottom and digest the
things i'm hearing dribble from your tongue.
i think i need a new
chest because the one i have is knuckle-knocked and
hurts and is crystalline with laurel ribs and tea cup
broken breaths trying to sing a song i forgot
the words to.
i think i need new shoulders because mine are crimson, vermillion, and stinging,
peeling, and sh
dreamsarewhathavemovedus alldreams are trickles of water falling over a book got caught in the rain, into a puddle, and rabbits devour the feeling and bring false hope. they nibble away and delight in the cringe and turn black. your rabbits vitalize in scoundrels of silence, but minedreamsarewhathavemovedus all
are just performing in a slip of sun from a faraway lamp on a girl's nightstand.
what stories that lamp could tell if it was given a tongue to bring up swarms of words like buzzing bees, but it's only another story for another day, and right now the rabbits
have
moved onto the book. what they don't know is you need to read the letters as a
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Curiosity can kill, I suppose; but apathy is lethal
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
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La la la la la la la lie...
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"Every writer has trouble writing."
-Joseph Heller
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"Why are you yelling? Is yelling designed to scare me? Because I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be scared of. More yelling? That's not scary. That you're going to hurt me, that's scary, but I'm sure I can outrun you." Cuddy to House
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