Poetry/Creative non-fiction/fiction

Dear Religion, June 18, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — jessicacolleenmcdermott @ 3:21 pm
Tags: , , ,

The moon has drug her fingers into your plans of control.

She clenched her claws so deep into your spine that you cant

remember how to move me close.


Don’t let me hear you speak in barks again.

I’m sweet, but I don’t kiss dogs.


At twelve you made me believe you

were serious. Those messages stored

in bottles that turned up in foreign caves,

but those phony instructions only

exhaust posies for the faint.


I’m licking this envelope closed on my own.

It tastes like salt drips from your eyes.


God damn the stillness of tonight,

it reminds me of when you slipped

into that stone costume of silence.


I wish your words still sang, instead

they grow mountains covered in

snow. When they melt the floods

will come. I’m lost in your whip lash,

but I’ve learned to float.


If all of it must end then why do you cheat?

Why move the pieces away from

my sight? I know they are there behind

your blush colored sigh.


I never asked for stocks in your

empty spaces but here I am today,

boasting in their lack of existence.


I’ve beat my craving for cover out, let the delicate

sight of forgiveness pass by, and generated enough

self-light to finally pat myself on the back for peeling

off the mask you tied behind my neck at birth.


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