Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Let them rip me

Writing is rough on me
I feel it caustic on my skin
A punch in the stomach
It’s heavy in my throat
Slapping me awake
Throwing one back
Burning down inside

Words pluck me like strings
Each line a beat of blood
Let them rip me
Let them cut pieces off
So I can pick them up

And remember where they go

Suffocating backwards

I have trouble nearing the cliff without jumping off
Standing at the fence without hopping it, and
Running headlong into the mist
I clench my fist sometimes when I
See a car and watch it plummet down the street
Paper bags were never for my lunches
Cause I didn’t know how to stop inhaling
Where does it begin and I end

I let it all inside me and not back out again
Suffocating backwards