my heart bleeds like my gums after chewing on a Brillo pad
100Please respect copyright.PENANAg5DlesILXy
“the straw went through the coconut!”
she shouted as she cycloned out the door,
mumbled to myself, “nevermore.”
100Please respect copyright.PENANAVYBbr2z41s
like that first cold snap in autumn100Please respect copyright.PENANAlNAes0ChE5
when the summer rose surrenders to the sudden fall in clime.
And finally withers, fades, and dies, thorny on its vine.
like our love that october night when your crystal lips of frost 100Please respect copyright.PENANA0dPHfqZJbv
first kissed this ready-for-easy-picking ripe and juicy butternut squash.100Please respect copyright.PENANA6OLZwlMD38
left decayed and blackened, once green and naive to the core.
mumbled to myself, “nevermore.”
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jagged and digitized are my emotions 100Please respect copyright.PENANA0ESY9GSGyv
as i scroll through our photos of the good times seen100Please respect copyright.PENANAcjNzubT1OM
through a myriad of tears and a cracked cel phone screen.
If memories are butterflies, they lay in a cocoon of cement underneath the basement floor.
mumbled to myself, “nevermore.”
100Please respect copyright.PENANAB1Qotf8PDA
love is heavy,
like a two-liter jug of pepsi
set out under the summer star too long, flat and fizzless.
cubes of ice and photons, like us, at war.
mumbled to myself, “nevermore.”
100Please respect copyright.PENANA9uATujVbFe
my ripped and faded heart might one day mend
with a needle and a little TLC, like patched-up jeans worn while begging at my knees
ridding my frayed sadness like a pet shampoo rids dogs of ticks and fleas.
stitching up all my past hurts, too, like when i was ignored at four.
mumbled to myself at five, “nevermore.”
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it may come to pass that i choose to live my life,
not gasping like an ICU patient choking in an oxygen tent, dying from pneumonia,
but with the full lung capacity of the winged-god mercury,
as he sprints through the sky in a marathon race to patagonia.
like cyclists fleetly pedaling
through the hills and flats of the tour de france, 100Please respect copyright.PENANAag068kjwcu
their torn-up knees from peloton crashes, patched anew,
like my torn-up, bleached-out denim heart caused by love,
an aneurysm, like a racer’s bike tire that just blew.
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one day, perhaps, i might smile more
might even laugh and roar.
when that time comes i shall caw:
YES! FOREVERMORE!
ns 172.71.254.83da2