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Literature
on seeking solace in strangers
And she felt like home
her arms gave
way to the sand
castle of her
chest,
she was
inexplicable
and
obscene
and
vulgar
and
i loved her for it
i knew
she was a dragon
of a girl
even with
charcoal creases
beneath her eyes
and smudged
vowels
l
e
a
k
i
n
g
from the corners
of her lips
like a faulty tap
to me she was beautiful
like those obscure
lapses in time
at 3.25 AM
with her legs
stretched across the
window sill
smoking my cigarettes
as she let her words
fold themselves
into the quiet
s p a c e s
around us
she still sparkled
with this rebellious
twinkle in her eyes
and
Literature
Sovereign
When the air pulls on your shoulders
and the eyes sit on your spine.
Think of the strength of Atlas
if only he dropped the world.
Literature
Before I Can Become a Writer
Develop insomnia. Develop
problems with substance abuse,
nothing serious, but enough
that I can say “write drunk,
edit sober” and mean it.
Drink tea. Write about drinking
tea. Take up smoking, ignore
the thoughts about it being
a slower suicide. Write about
suicide. Don’t mean it.
Write about sunsets and
ink veins. Mean it.
Fall in love with someone
who will never love me back.
Lament. Write a million
crappy poems and two good
ones. Never show him.
Move on. Write a few more
bad poems. Fall in love with
someone perfect. Screw it up.
Fall in love with someone awful.
Call him perfect. Screw it up.
Cry. Cry for the inevitab
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Tattered love letters.
Β© 2013 - 2024 LadyLincoln
Comments107
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A very emotional haiku