literature

Rich Inner Life

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schriftsteller's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

My therapist owns more of
my words than I do—

called into the court of biased
opinion, I’m sued for the
cost of my psychological napalm
spreading its fingers between
the ribs of this anorexic city.

It started with combat boots
of youth—

spreading the hole in the soul,
scattering secrets inside the sixth
dimension floating iridescent
between where I thought in the closet
with a machete head & the work that
actualized from my termite-
bitten shoulders.

Each year I lay a place marker, a duck,
where the sealed record of thought
& the seeping elitist self-esteem
are buried under manuscripts—

the auto-systematic behavior
traits & medication maze sitting heavy
& bulbous on the horizon line.

The boxcar romantic of poetry rolls
its wheels against my grain—

with tree-ringed skin & the
name of hate carved into
my barking I cannot escape
the circumstances of its
siren song.
good, bad, maybe sad?

(if you ask real nice
i'll tell you what this is about
((i can't decide if it's clear)))
© 2013 - 2024 schriftsteller
Comments3
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NascitvrDecurro's avatar
I wanted those combat boots so badly <.<>.>

I'm pretty sure I know what it's about, but that could just be because I'm me and you're you and we know these things :heart:

Also, I'm very proud of you for posting this one.