done

my pores are leaking
anguish and puss
and i sob in the shower
collapsed near the drain
dry heaves of nobody-gives-a-fuck
where chunks of my hair are caught
so, my art disturbs you

come closer as I whisper

…good

now you can feel
what I taste—

the bile of waking
yet another day
in putrid flesh
surviving isn’t what it seems
it’s knowing you don’t belong
with these goddamned bones,
and saltless tears in the shower, and
the gazpacho hand of those that promise
but leave you bloody and walk away.

it’s all the todays
and the unanswered yesterday
of my lost sister’s sacrament
the moon and the innocent child
I never was.

I was born broken
and never handled with care…

© Grace Black

 

I also dabble with poetry prompts on Instagram. Follow me there, @graceblackink, for more daily poetry and play along. Do you dabble in wordplay as well? Let’s create!

 

Love and Ink,

Grace

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