NOT FINISHED HEHEHHEEHEH

The truth is, my husband has sad blisters;
a whole Earth's crust. I used to think
of my life as a armchair or Venn diagram, I'd see
Wilfred Owen in my dog's face. The truth is,
I really really like love. The little
blasting moments, a galaxy on my back.
The truth is, I have killed a lot of people.
Sam, his stroke of a hairline and
his dead animals. Crocodiles, Chloe's,
Shoes, Lisa's. The very damn salty
core of killing people is the dense humanity. How
in fleeting moments, my uterus is a cloud.
The truth is, I have swelled and tightened
my warrior smile. I have killed a
lot of men and crushed many women in my cleavage but
the very shimmering of truth is the hiccup of my
body, without scars
or marks.

Author's Note

i have missed writing so much and expressing myself as an animal. ive been very crazy and travelling to the moon and mending the fibres so and so and so and walking home in the slight shower and finding myself all over again. brb

Reviews

[Collect-Eye]

this should be published, it should be a song, it needs the kind of video one sees in visions during the altered state between reality and dreams
it will go down in history, it is history, it integrates history, it reflects it, it bends it over and slaps it on the arse and splatters the blueprints for Dali and Pollack's love child's genetic code all over history's back
it hands over the euphemism to Orwell/L. Ron for further review
they teleport between individual sands and stars while Aziz Ansari waxes philosophical on thread counts over x-mas music played on high street
"the hiccup of my body"..to me, this piece implies reincarnation and teleportation and self-realization/actualization...transporting yourself in and out of your own soul and skin
In the search for purity you are accusing yourself of horrible, metaphorical things and you leave the reader breathless, shaken and stirred w/ visceral imagery, from the very semantics and sub-text that rattle inside the peaks/valleys of the brain, to the larger perspective...
There is always the option for the reader to skim over this and miss it out of fear, masked as confusion
IDK, I've rambled so long...amazing piece Safrina