The Weaver
Carefully intertwined,
the threads of my mind.
Been weaving since I first
heard the words of your verse.
Sometimes these strings get
tangled and form a threat.
They flow right out my mouth
with no stumble, pause, or doubt.
It’s only when my cords hit you
that you seem to understand.
The needles you pinned to my brain,
where my cloth wove and wove again,
...Thursday 11th June 2026 7:14 am
Fill Me
Show me off
Stainless steel
Is it real
or will I rust?
Patiently,
I sit still.
Hope you’ll fill
up my cup.
And if I overflow,
will you be there to clean
the mess I’ve been in?
The mess you let me sit in.
Consecrete
your ill mind
and you'll find
I’m not the cure.
So,
push me off,
let me spill,
so you’ll feel
my warm bl...
Sunday 7th June 2026 4:35 pm
My Hair
Today, I curled my hair
coiled every ringlet,
and when you asked to feel it,
and when you asked to keep it,
I pulled some out for you.
Today, I dyed my hair
bleached every strand,
and when you called it “so bland”
and when you called it “so bad”
I pulled some out again.
Today, I crimped my hair
heating every skein,
but then you called me insane,
and...
Friday 5th June 2026 9:32 am
Snow
When I was six years old,
my bunny, Snow, passed.
Her body went cold
as I squeezed her heart out.
There it was, on the ground,
beating out my name,
creating the sound
of love she had for me.
Dropping down to my knees,
my pointer and thumb
picked up the heart I squeezed,
with blood beneath my nails.
Did she really love me,
or was she someth...
Wednesday 20th May 2026 3:47 am
The Garnish
Like broccoli to a small child,
scraped away I am.
At the dish’s edge, I am piled,
left upon the pan.
Slowly, my heart grows cold;
no forks poke my way
until I’m brought home to the trash,
no food on my tray.
No apples to keep
cold, gloved hands of doctors away,
no hearts to beat
or sear my ego into filets.
I’m starving, hungry
to find a food that I don'...
Wednesday 13th May 2026 2:46 pm
The Ball
Can I fix this puzzle
of pieces life gave me?
Like a ball on a tee,
I wait to get hit.
As they pierce through the air
with every swing they take,
the bruises that they make
are so precious to me.
The gashes make me think
new poems and new songs,
as intricate as wars,
the feud of brain and heart.
So hit me once more, please,
and let the sti...
Wednesday 13th May 2026 5:32 am

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