My Poem

Sometimes it doesn’t have to make sense and be in perfectly rhymed couplets and gently describe an ocean breeze and burning desire and jimmy cracked corn, when your emotional center the one that you assume is housed in your fairy tale heart pocket, covered in glittery quotes and bullshit and marshmallow flavoring and corn syrup because all of your hopes are covered in corn syrup your stupid wants are high cholesterol disease making corn syrupy crab cakes with a thousand sparkling candles and it wants to explode inside of you, killing you over and over again, gutting you all over the furniture, especially the white leather sofa so there can be an undeniable blood stain, proof that you or someone, something alive was once here and it died atop something that also was alive once and beautiful and now both sacrificed for comfort out out of jealousy or some other outrageously potent feeling and now they no longer really exist in their former glories nothing exists the way it really does in our heads, our dirty useless heads we see it exactly the way we want to see it assigning value to garments and carpets and glossy rocks and certain smells and never to freedom, not the real kind not the see it as it truly is kind, only the commercial for sale kiss and tell show me up and I will show off kind- because nothing matters when its all fake no sense, no accord,no joy, just striving to touch the sun the very thing keeping you alive the very thing that if you get close enough to it will kill you instantly and isn’t that a blessing, something alive was once here and it died atop something that also was alive once and beautiful. Like you were. When I loved you. And it made no sense… it didn’t rhyme.

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