HOME | DD

Description

I am machine, cold,
though I want to be devoured
like sweet blood oranges.
Scarred, crimson fruit
in autumns alleyways.

& for those unaware,
this is a freudian slip.

I have never known
the meaning of silence.

I am too loud,
not loud enough.

My knees
are their own
bruised universe
as I ask for wisdom
spread along my soil.

My branches -
they shake
with insecurity.

This cemetery cat:
I want him to hurt me.

Claw his way
through my anatomy -
into the darkest parts of me.

This is not love.

This is back-alley
romance, untamed
wanderlust &
he begs for the chance
to find it. -

He is pieces,
emotionally cursed.
A black cat,
& I am not superstitious.

Yet,

I take shelter within
the mere, forbidden
thought of his
tombstone teeth
along the strong steel
of my rib-cage.

I will never
get the smell of death
or glory
out of my sheets.

This alone is merely
the anatomy
of my survival.