pag-sigaw:— @nosebleedclub; something sinisterNot pictured, the first poem I truly attempted w
pag-sigaw:— @nosebleedclub; something sinisterNot pictured, the first poem I truly attempted writing this year. Today’s prompt led me to some dark places, the me-child’s fears auguring for my current state. In lieu of resolution, a thought: “I wonder if I let her catch me then, if all of this would have been prevented. If I let love hold me instead.” On to the poem,in my dreams, there is a bloody woman walking towards me,swaying her body to a beat only we can hear.if i lay beside my bed, she’d lay under it,on her side, on mine, face to face—except,she is faceless, and i’ve cupped mine with palms, they come away red.as i sleep, i dream for analysis, absolution i both crave and dread.(somebody’s hand on my body is my hand,somebody’s fingers my fingers.i’m ever-hungry for something i haven’t tasted, pitched forwardoffering to be taken by a face put on in my head).in the morning, i forget all about her.i go about my day, mouth unstained.there’s a burning in my belly i exorcise, something of mine wrenched away.it comes away red.i’m still hungry. -- source link