February 19, 2024.
"Oh, probably, but my mind isn't gentle with me -
I always have one foot in the past, reopening wounds on demand"
But I do it all with honesty
That is a vital (little) part of my pysche
I embroider into my fair flesh, hang damp laundry from my ribcage
I dig out bullets with my bare hands, just to wear them as earrings
The bleeding is as mundane as breathing, happens naturally
Nothing is as precious to me than
melting down the nuggets of gold from my timid soul
and creating dagger after dagger
Whether they're sharp or dull is beyond me
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 135 times
Written on 2024-02-19 at 11:47
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bit brash
"A bit brash, isn't it?", she cringed"Oh, probably, but my mind isn't gentle with me -
I always have one foot in the past, reopening wounds on demand"
But I do it all with honesty
That is a vital (little) part of my pysche
I embroider into my fair flesh, hang damp laundry from my ribcage
I dig out bullets with my bare hands, just to wear them as earrings
The bleeding is as mundane as breathing, happens naturally
Nothing is as precious to me than
melting down the nuggets of gold from my timid soul
and creating dagger after dagger
Whether they're sharp or dull is beyond me
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 135 times
Written on 2024-02-19 at 11:47
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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