|
she plays mama's belly like a drum
and giggles at the sound.
"that's where you began,"
i tell her
we were once one.
she scampers toward the fil..
|
|
inspired by robert frost's "reluctance"
|
|
this is a congrlomeration of several different poems i wrote while living in chicago and struggling to make ends meet.
|
|
This is a tribute to a friend who committed suicide in college. She also had BPD, as I do.
|
|
I wrote this en route to my grandfather's funeral
|
|
listen deep
cried out as the door
creaked closed,
the kind of cry
that makes the
head heave in its own
awful acrid now,
no no boils over into
..
|
|
A silent action
figure at
my table,
my fallen
plastic hero.
A dust brown
miniature
fallen dead on my
yellowed table. Late
afternoon buttermil..
|
|
I wrote this about my ex husband, four years before we got married.
|
|
morning makes me stay under, under what i’m unsure, but definitely under it all and not over anything that’s happened years ago or even ye..
|
|
lazy disarray.
energy’s ebbing. the
afterglow’s over.
bold, dark like
open windows
at night,
your bright
eyes watched
my prone fo..
|
first
prev
1
|
|