Photograph by: Howanxious
Your covetous hands undress
My possessions with creased
Dollar bills. A callous scythe
An arbitrary ellipse, you have
No regard for my anachronistic
Sentimentality. It’s been two
Years, time to scrub the chalk
From the hardwood floors
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There goes my spleen plucked from
A backless picture frame and there
Lies my inky heart tucked into the
Sensational headlines of a failed
Marriage. Inside that shoe box a
Pair of testicles, never been used. Had
They been, perhaps I wouldn’t be sitting
Here knitting sweaters for all the unborn
Children imprinted inside my sterile womb
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Swinging from my neck a fiend’s tongue
Noose, words exchanged, blighted by
Expletives and expectations of psychic
Servitude, turns out that two incompletes
Impoverish exponentially. Turns out that
I was not the mistress of his moonlit
Engagements, that honor I’m afraid
Goes to my sneak thieving sister
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You’ll find me piecemeal in every
Purchase, a torn fingernail, a raven
Hair pinched off rootless, a failed
Leukocyte. Sometimes we shatter
And for a dime you can cash in on
My sideshow holocaust, better
Still take it all free of charge
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