Holes Don’t Make Craters Any Bigger

Posted: January 19, 2015 in poetry, writing
Tags: , , , , , ,

Old wounds
open like firecrackers
in church. 
Explosive untouchable smoke-making demons 
of forgotten torment,
squelched out with 
years of 
scrubbing clean in showers,
ridding the riddled 
of humor,
lest the distance shorten
between synapses and
receptors.
Ya dig?

Pain, bitches.

Slice me open, 
throat to womanly parts,
and you could never
duplicate
the agony. 
Lions of shadows 
play out scenes in
time-lapse like
flowers growing backwards,
decintigrating back to
dirt. 
Too-hot sunshine
melting earthworms in
their belly-tracks. 
Phantom pains of 
a choice organ,
squeezing like sobs and dry heaves
to feel
remnants of
love. 

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Comments
  1. Kylie says:

    God, these are amazing. I love this one.

    Like

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