i am trying to write a poem
that isn't about you
the vineyards outside my window are a collage
of greens and yellows
i sleep with your lucy inside my shirt
because she is small and soft
the pale light of dawn is quiet
in a way that gives me hope
sometimes i am lonely
and by "sometimes" i mean I was born
lonely
alone
sometimes it's subtle
and i can pretend i am made of
cogs and metal and engine grease
sometimes it beats at my frame like
a wild animal caged
but this poem isn't about you
who pried that animal from my chest
and planted your musical voice in
its hollow place
but this poem isn't about you-
rodney hugged me
linda hugged me twice today too
i wonder how she knew
i've never needed hugs
but they peeled your name off
your door, earlier
and i suddenly felt that old animal
howl again
i guess this poem is about you anyway
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
