poet – Page 2 – Thistle Thoughts

Origin

Yes, life eats at me
Raw, difficult to digest

I listened to recordings of your
voice on splintered cassette tapes
just to trigger a decent dream.

a man gave me
his abduction diary

they tell me I’m still too young,
but I know the darkness doesn’t
discriminate

Those perfect pearls imprint
an enlightened message
on my fruit-thin flesh

I pick scabs in layers
to know exactly what being an
obstacle to your own healing
looks like

born a heavenly body
not of her own

I’m awake
for five hours before I feel
the grinding of clouds
into my bones

my home has walls
made of sliced bread
& they’re soft &
distant enough…

“The King Needed No Crown” &
“One Circle of Hell Was Hydrotherapeutic”