Wednesday, July 2, 2014

every very

These words are not what I want
and yet I want for what I have no words.
And oh how I've waited,
and waited
for the world to end
or for you to say something
or something, like this, but not this
God no

the feelings crack and roll
my ribs
my tongue
tangled all the way through you
through everything we loved and fought for
and life itself
a ticking time bomb
set inside my own dear heart.

My own dear heart
Do you read me? can you hear me?
Dear heart come in, come home,
come closer
I want to breathe you the fuck in
and swallow you whole
as if my life did not depend upon it
as if I did not live just for your every very beat.

1 comment:

  1. whispers nearly lost
    in a tangled length of veins
    presence of words beating
    at the edges of emptiness
    shouts from muscle
    memories dancing with words that touch like felt images
    waking to fall my head
    and thinking this is what its like to live inside an oven

    ReplyDelete