Graceland

Graceland

Articles in the abstract;
I count corners
in the boxes 
I’ve lived in,
ready in windows, 
upstream in salt.

And the pain
is in the cut,
red and bold,
I turn a circle
to look back at
myself.

Myself?

My self.

Weakness is a gift,
I have skinned my knees
more than once
to kiss a star.

And I feel the embers
of my last cigarette,
burning holes
through the acrylic,
the basement of 
me.

Or not so,

I bite my lip
just to taste the blood.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Interesting will come back to read more, like your writing style....

[Anna]

Haunting, i especially like "Weakness is a gift, I have skinned my knees more than once to kiss a star."