
We blew midnight blues through ash-colored rings, chain smoke with our speculations on who’s burning their end of the bridge first, or execute in tandem because our loyalty is compromised and we might fail together.
and if we do,
Leave me be to swig from bottled blessings of cognac + corn liquor, I can’t filter what demands attention today…
maybe tomorrow.
I gorge on unhealthy expectations, gag on pills that are too hard to swallow, each one plunge + splash into my acidic pit as I become nauseous by what’s dissolving, sickened by the regurgitated taste and burn of what is seen to be true.
But I put the con in conflict, confusion and control, hurdle over stone-walled boundaries to vandalize an unguarded heart.
How do I confide with confidence?
let’s talk about it…
I’ve been waiting two weeks to write poem FOUR! In the waiting, I worked on it as much as I could by taking notes as usual. I don’t like taking breaks longer than I want to but if I hadn’t, most of my pieces would be written completely different.
Organs. Typically, most of my pieces don’t resonate with me until the next day at the least, but this one had me coming undone early. I’ll be premature and say its my favorite in the series because of how it’s written.
There are questions of loyalty, acceptance and conflict. Each organ experiences damaging effects individually yet compromised collectively. A healthy relationship can’t survive without trust.
other reads…
Take a few minutes to read poems ONE, TWO + THREE from the heavy body… series. One more to go, poem FIVE, bones, coming soon.
heavy body...muscles
Undress my outer flesh to reveal fibrous blood orange texture, entwined threads that were once woven to perfection.
Thanks for reading my shit. I love you.
peace.
alex b.
This line 😮💨
“…speculations on who’s burning their end of the bridge first…”
Whew!
Your artistic soul is really shining through on this one!