Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
A poem a day for the month of May; what self-loathing idiot came up with that? Who in their right mind would try to force
By Chloë J.3 years ago in Poets
I knife through the world, all prickles and efficiency, cutting so deep, so quick, that the blood waits politely to fall.
How neatly they have packaged the earth! With countless bags of plastic, they have commodified the loam, the pulsing, sensuous,
When I went missing, the cops came to investigate within two hours of my disappearance. When she went missing, it took them
madness, utter madness, reflected and refracted in your tidal gaze- where was it conceived? my broken mind? or yours? I search for the center of the ripples, where the stone went in, but I
My grandmother passed down a ring she got for her eighth grade graduation. I wear it almost every day. She also gave me her incessant fears and worries-
I. The city, with her sirens and laughter and music and screaming (we met there, in the center of the beautiful noise) II.
sorry New Jersey- we just made the connection, but no thanks to you.
I. wine-sweet kisses on a snowed in night, letting winter linger in ice-sugar snowdrifts, up against the door. let’s play
I have a collection of mothers; everywhere I go, I find them. I know they are my mothers because they each hold a small piece of my one
tie me to a radiator. brand me with love. I welcome the burn; hurt me. singe me. set me aflame. it would be better than the Arctic Circle of neglect
sick of void-shouting; sometimes the mountain feels more lonely than others.
