Drowning In Ink

I hate that I can see you drowning in ink far too muted to ever be called blue Am I meant to rescue you? Without will or way I have found you, angry and left wanting, dressed down on cotton pages, milling in mediocrity and pulling pleasantries from the clichés that speak your name and … Continue reading Drowning In Ink

God Damn If I Haven’t Learned

In this life I have lived and I have loved too hard and too fast to ever make it to the finish line in one solid piece. I have lost my heart to fate and fools and scorched my feet inside friendly fire. I have broken my back against walls and learned that love doesn’t … Continue reading God Damn If I Haven’t Learned

Love Has Never

Love has never asked to be felt; it has never once bowed its head to kiss my palms or ask me what it would take to make room for it in my soul. Love has never spent a moment gathering my dreams or getting to know me a little bit better; it never once offered … Continue reading Love Has Never

The Hard Part of the Night

You left me to hold the hard parts of our life and the night, and I still try to mute the sound of my own heart breaking, but it breaks again and again, over and over until the shards of it climb from my chest and pull my lungs from my throat, my lungs that … Continue reading The Hard Part of the Night

I Developed A Taste For It

I would have loved nothing more than to leave you gracefully, but those matches I had hidden in my back pocket were yearning to be struck as I had been stricken with guilt and buried underneath your lies somewhere in the bottom of your soul, next to the misfortune you carried and scrawled into the … Continue reading I Developed A Taste For It

Love on Demand

I don’t think you ever knew how much I loved you, or how I pressed these poems between my teeth or my heart, all depending on the day or the weather and whether or not you decided to take my calls or drown me out. I don’t think I ever knew how much I wanted … Continue reading Love on Demand

Short Circuiting- Ms. Georgia Park

She is a literary powerhouse

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

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What if i recklessly wrote three or four poems a day
and sent them into the void of cyberspace
where anyone from my little brother to my exes could read them
until i was picked clean like the carcass
of the rotisserie chicken my aunt sent me home with last weekend
and what if i then found spiderwebs in my pantry
and boiled a bone broth with it – would i be all
water with shiny oil spills fed to the masses
at the homeless shelter i almost wound up at

or should i instead demand a little privacy
when the car of my body stops short and my brain
reels back and jolts violently against my skull
until i am irrevocably damaged? should i put on display
for the purpose of a science i dont understand
the spots where i am worn thin and short circuiting

or should i…

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