living is close to dying










living is close to dying fog stories
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Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
A poem about living. Thank you for reading xxx

living is close to dying

once at the dinner table the legs gave out

my dead grandfather told me i have too much to give

my dead grandfather told me i have too much to give i wrote a poem about heartache

saw my flesh melt into another wax candle

saw my flesh melt into another wax candle like your own scent in new york.

i slid into your arms like the crib of my future daughter

i slid into your arms like the crib of my future daughter let out the artist in me. van gogh on the walls

i slid into your arms like the crib of my future daughter let out the artist in me. van gogh on the walls hemingway ruled the ceiling.

plath stood out an ugly bruise

plath stood out an ugly bruise but i tell my future daughter to heed her words.

the artist within you will want to grasp this world

the artist within you will want to grasp this world and shake it until the fog begins to jostle.

bones rearrange themselves

bones rearrange themselves you will not recognise the eyes in the mirror

bones rearrange themselves you will not recognise the eyes in the mirror most days.

i wore the dress from two years ago

the one you called ugly

the one you called ugly until my thighs quivered in shame.

the one you called ugly until my thighs quivered in shame. fear.

i'll tell her it took me so long to live

and i never looked back.

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