poetry community – Thistle Thoughts

On the Floor of Your Apartment

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”

You would never feed a fire.
You believe it’s better
to watch a slow burn.

we become
our shipwrecked selves

this distortion
was learned,
ingrained

it’s been a long time since I’ve been
moon-touched