poemsbyval

[poemsbyval]

When I opened my eyes for the first time I saw a man sitting across the ratty desk from me. His suit was poorly made and torn in several places. He wrote something down on a ripped up sheet of crumbled paper with a cracked bic pen, in a language I couldn’t read, but could understand very simply that I was promoted. That’s when the hands took hold of me. They gripped my jaw and hair, they pushed my feet up and I was one with a wall of jerkied meat, fingers and knuckles pulled me up to the next floor, until my chair had me sat across from a desk. The man and desk were a little better, his suit wrinkled but not torn, his pen whole, the paper with lines. The same language that meant I’d go up signaled the same feeling. Teeth gripped my jugular and feet slid under my arms to make me one with the mass grave. It never hurt, in all the years I spent in this cycle of improving furniture and stationary and skinless crying bloodless people ripping me through the walls floors and ceilings. Eventually I was across from the most handsome man I’d ever seen, he sat on a throne of granite with a marble table. His peacock feather quill dipped into nothing but bled the letters onto the skin which he wrote. A price, a gift, and a sweaty brow. I still wonder if I woke up or fell asleep

[poemsbyval]

I rip and tear at my female body

And I know it’s sad because it cries

Crimson tears leak out under my fingernails

The tears are sweet and stain my teeth

And I haven’t been able to brush them

I am a self misogynist

For only a classist hate

Could bring such murder into my heart

And tear my bones down with oppression

She cries out and I plug my ears

A child hiding under their bed

Hoping the screaming will stop

I am a poorly formatted poem

Even Freeform is too structured

To convey the fluid meaning I’m trying to speak

The woman inside of me beats my shins

With a long rusty pipe

She cuts herself on the shattered metal

And I weep for her bloody toes

[poemsbyval]

My muse is blood

And she hates and peels at my skin

She bites and shatters my jaw

And breaks my hand into form

My muse is god

And he stabs at me with wicked love

He scalps me and fingers my brain

And bleeds my eyes on paper

My muse is heaven

And it kicks me in my stomach

And it slaps me in my face

And it hates me with a love unquestioned

My muse is dirt

And they crush my heart with weight

And they force my voice to song

And they force my love into word

And they force my lungs into breath

[poemsbyval]

At birth I was blessed with a Midas touch of white hot venom

An owl shit out the boney carcass of my heart

Mounding puss and bursting flesh makes up the beauty of my ire

Gods chosen for hell on earth, the worlds blood orgy janitor

Death tastes bitter on my lips but sweet on the tongue

It slides down my throat like a warm wet crimson mensuration

The bite of old blood cures my stds, and washes me clean

It cleans out the bile and warts that make up my nerves

The dying bird with broken wing that makes up my lungs

Aching for every breath, brain half crushed

Unsure if it’ll ever fly again, let alone walk

I try to sprint but my legs were raped

I try to crawl but my fingers break off on the razor blade floor

I rip and bite at my own flesh to discover my teeth are made of mold

And yet they look at me with a kind antibacterial smile

And I’m selfish enough to beg a hand

[poemsbyval]

Everyone seems to be getting better

And I’m trying

I’m trying

I’m trying

But it doesn’t seem to work

I try to be good

I try to keep them safe

I try to help them stay

And I try

I try

I try

And it seems like everyone’s dying

And it seems like everyone’s home

They’re laughing

They’re laughing

Right in my face

It’s not my fault

I did a good job

I made them safe

I made them stay

I was good

But they still died

I turned away a second

And they died

They died

They died

[poemsbyval]

Gone -

I feel you watching me still

You dark red eyes

Peering through the night

I see your heart

And I feel it’s beat

In my still waiting hand

I hear your warmth

And I feel it on my neck

As you burrow away

I taste your lips

And feel your sweat

And hear your voice still

I smell the earth

And light and dark

And still feel cold with fire

-Val