But This Time It’s Not the Same

Destruction plays
A brain in bloom,
A dish of red flesh
Served on a tin platter,

I never said that
I would matter—
Charm them with
A thunderous drawl
Of spit, tongue in the
Slit, I nip and nip

At broken walls
In broken corridors,
Suckling on the remnants
Of sighs and screams
From deep within the

I never thought
I would be the girl
Hiding plasters in
Her panties,
Prying blood out
Of candies, paying
Homage to silent
Ultimatums over
Post-adolescent skin,

Because even within
The pulsing rings thin,
My body a chaos
Of too many selves,
Turgid and lanky in


8 kommenttia artikkeliin ”But This Time It’s Not the Same

  1. nice intensity to this…the walls carry the stories eh…and plaster in the panties…ha….that line caught me off guard at first…prying blood out of candies as well is a great line…


  2. Yikes. I felt like I was descending into mental illness with this one. It reminded me of a short story–can't remember the name or author–about a woman who was locked in a room with yellow wallpaper that seemed to come alive for her as she slowly lost contact with reality. Maybe the name was ”The Yellow Wallpaper.”


  3. Yeah the name was The Yellow Paper…We had to study it laxt year for English Lit. It was an incredible short story!*_*


  4. Your writing leaves me breathless, speechless, amazed at how much they refelct my inner feelings.

    Another poem with so much surprise and poignant words!



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