blade of grass draft poem
sorrow deeper
than mom’s blue
veins dipped stoic
my stomach is teal
& blank frenzy the kind
of hunger weightlessness
holds is both shameful &
filling i started chasing it
as soon as narcissus showed himself
inside my fathers blue gummed mouth
self-erosion never came so quick till
then wanted the shadow of
my body to be as thin as a blade of grass
the kind of grass you grab in fistfills & cut your palms
on the kind you eat but can’t stomach
5 thoughts on "blade of grass draft poem"
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“the kind of grass you grab in fistfills & cut your palms / on”
Phew. This piece is like a raw wound. Thank you for sharing it.
Stunning.
What Susanna said.
Such powerful images in phrases and the whole.
You are there already and it shows. You have mastered one part of our craft and have displayed the art of it…
from
“sorrow deeper
than mom’s blue
veins dipped stoic”
all to the way to
“the kind to you eat but can’t stomach”,
your body of work holds space.
Thank you for sharing this poem. It is brilliant and radiating.