I can’t shake this empty feeling In the peach pit Scraping the bottom Of my wallowing stomach It seems to always cave in Once I had thought it was full Kneeling down on the bathroom floor Fingers trying to smooth out The lumpy dumpling stuck in my throat Sometimes I can gulp it down Most of the time it lingers Lingers on like a foul odor Grasping at the back of my gullet Daisies, You fill me up with daisies But I keep plucking at the petals Until grey ash remains Why can’t I stop peeling away the flowers Why can’t I let things be Immobilized by the weaknesses of myself When I know for damn sure all this thinking...
You fill me up Like fuzzy peach petals
Pricking my fingers on my own thorns
You take the sting away
Following me like a shadowed blanket
Cushioning each fall
Delicate fingers anxiously pacing
Back and forth across broken pavement
Black stained fingertips
With an even darker heart
You breathe into me
I sink into you
Stem placed in a crystal vase
Holding something broken
Holding someone broken
Concrete carcasses
Zip tied to our hearts
Trap me Florescent skylights
Burnt pale skin
Weak in the knees
Weak in the head
Raw retinas
Can’t see through salt water
Worn out windshield wipers
Scrape the filth
From my fingernails
Eggplant leather skin
Beaten With tiny tenderizers
Dandelion liver spots
Hole-punched arms
Hole-punched heart
Fabricated feelings
Suffocated
Spaces between
Bone white teeth
Pierced blue lips
And marbled eyes
Separate me like laundry, place each part of me in different coloured baskets.
Pour fabric softener down my throat, soften the lumps I keep choking on.
I’m not clean…. I can’t get this filth out from underneath my skin.
