August 11th, 2014

~

a few short poems from a few months ago

a part of myself gone away
somewhere cold and alien
the moon (distant, cold, the moon)
hurt
because
it was (still) attached,
so far away

---

there are feelings too large to fit in the body
they break it into pieces
drunk, in the rose garden
eyes bright with pain
eyes dull with pain
buried like a treasure, like love

---


Bleach.
Fluorescent colors.
I want my heart to reflect the sun,
burned chemical white,
glowing with a different kind of pain.