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here's that shovel you left in the pit of my stomach

this bridge of reading you, writing you
i cross it too fast
and my eyes lay down at the end
on the private beach
you send me to
quiet as a casket
lowered into the lungs of the earth
where it sings duets with dirt
to the decaying punctuation
you speared
in the very last line–
hoping i'd run backwards
to build a wall
around the beginning
how you start a silent war with me
landlord of my heart
i pay you late
because i hoard your haunting
and staple aspirin
to the back of every smile
stamped 'overdue'
but you aren't alive–
you aren't applying salve
to anything that hurts
there's no damp cloth
on my distress
i order your words
first thing in the morning
because it moves your reflection
from a dream
to my kitchen table
nuking my yawn
with hysteria
how can i stand in front of your verse
and not undress?
demand my freckles to attack
and spread out
so you'd finish me,
maybe stab the sun for old times sake
avenge my skin
and sign off on every Summer
that wasn't in the script
what story do i tell myself now?
it's like razor burn
going over the same prickly past
rubbing lotion on the loss
we kept ourselves apart,
though the knees of our context
kept touching
your guitar puffs out its chest
when i demand your music
move to an urn
your Tarzan titles
pounding my tongue
as i repeat them in the wrong direction
screaming at a serpent
'don't circle back!'
my voice bludgeoned
and crawling
you want to test me,
setting traps for each step i take
to grab my mental machete
walk right up to misery
and ask for a loan,
remind it how your credit hung
draining moonlight
from our future
i buried you!
i buried you in paper!
i buried you in every font!
the scalpel of your voice
stopped treating me
and i needed those scars,
i needed to reopen the vein of losing you
of never having you
all over again,
as a reminder i am blank
without your blood moving
how cold you come
now that my eyes carry coffins
everywhere i go

15 Sep 16

Rated 10 (10) by 3 users.
Active (3): 10
Inactive (7): 8, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10

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you portray sorrow very well.

i only have one nit. in the first stanza, L4. on to of. if it must be on, i think you should change the following line 'send' to 'sent'

i don't think the grammar is 'wrong, exactly'...i just think it would sit tidier with the small change.

i really like upside-downy 63 - 67
 — unknown

 — ARedLetter

nicely rendered for the most part.  though I'm thinking you could shave a few kibbles and bits here and there.  such as:
"it" in 2
"with me" in 15.

quite groovy.
 — JKWeb

oh my. words fail me right now. I am overcome with emotion. this piece freezes my heart still
 — dvdsxr

 — unknown

10 As always ;)
 — Odin

6-14 is absolutely incredible. Could be a poem on its own. I think this is a little long for my taste, with some careful surgery it could be a little more precise. But that would be hard to do without ruining what's really important here: the raw emotion and perfectly realized images.

Great work.
 — mould_jesus