Hang ups got nothing uplifting to them
always make me crash. Spirit bent
like an accordion my voice all muffled
gets louder in my head
emotions choke me, my throat an old muffler that got
miles of stories to run.
I ruminate on a time we had
one moment that gets me all stuck
like my 12 times tables. Xs flying at me
like an ex’s under-the-table-come-ons.
Come on! Come on!
Let’s move on the present is not talking
about the future nor the past. Come on! Come on!
I need a bump- bump the needle off
my thoughts on-loop. Admire them
like vinyl on the wall of a greasy hipster joint.
Hang-ups. They slow me down
actively, shut down my imagination.
It’s supposed to be a teenage thing but
hey I still get pimples so why do I think
insecurities clear up with degrees.
You’d think I’d know better. My recall
is terrible, only bring to mind the times
I failed…failed myself.
Need to hear from others the times
that I succeeded. Even then I don’t believe
just feel like a generation X-er demanding
my trophy for showing up.
We all want to be something in this world
there is power in numbers but when I say things
like that it’s just skirting the issue
at least I ain’t lying
coming straight as an A-line
My mouth is scared from secrecy
a scab flaps loosely
loosened by my slip ups.
My tiny jerky
my piece of me rotting from the inside
from not pressing my feelings
my heart, my pelvis on to you.
Punishment for not nourishing on your lips
that I forget how perfect they are until I cant
press up on them. Humming bird lips,
vibrate perfectly
causing a backwards reflection
to the first time I skinned those lips.
Our history.
I know I love you
cause I resisted pulling the skin off
my lip. I didn’t yank that crispy skin
with the tips of my index
finger and my thumb.
I resisted the pain
the pleasure of the sting
flooding my body as the blood
sprouts out my lip down my chin
warm trail. Resisted having
my lip swell from the immediate jolt
instant gratification rather be fully satiated
by the feel of your lips.
I let myself heal for you- my history.
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