Throat cut from my fingernails, bruises on my knees; popped blood vessel eyes, I laugh as I cry, knuckles swollen from my teeth. Blurry vision, missed calls, now I’m dancing while I scream; eyes made for faking smiles, nothing is as it seems. Purgatory and pill diets, wings broken in my youth; oh denial, yeah denial, I stare in the eyes of the truth. My body infused with cyanide, rib cages and collarbones; a skeleton made of the sorrow I sing and the reason I’m writing this poem. An aptitude to disappoint, you knew that I would misbehave; dirty mirrors, soar moans, licking my lips, hunting the prey. Nauseated, self-medicated, who am I to blame? Moods changing like the moon, I’m fine, just leave, no, stay. Throat cut from my fingernails, biting the hand that feeds; glass tears down my eyes, we fuck as I cry, my nightmare veiled as a dream.

12 thoughts on “Puke

  1. Hi hon,
    This was terrifying to read, but I appreciate you sharing the feelings in so intensely amazing words.

    I’ve missed you and I’m glad you’ve written. I feel like I’ve fallen off the face of the earth, from my blog.


    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply to Cokewhorehippie Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s