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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Personal · #1310051
a tight fist kissing a fat lip
I called my mother again to remind her
I am alive,
to rinse away the sweat, tears -
                     
                   all the things I talk about
                   in my sleep
 
But she had already wandered off
Leaving behind a pack of cigarettes
and a tight fist kissing a fat lip -
 
                   a hunger in my hurt
                   I can’t satiate
 
I need to shed my skin, taste your sin -
steal what I can’t borrow
I want to promise you
 
                   tonight will be exhausting
                   Such a perfect girl
 
But my father/my sister/my brothers - 
they linger
and it’s hard to miss that look in their eyes
           
                   like salty, wet poetry
                   shredding my tissue paper skin



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1310051-Wasted