Poetry

soft stitches

I’m sorry
Really, I’m trying
I think maybe that’s part of the problem
Because the earth’s too dry
For what I’m growing here
And I might fall through the cracks

I thought if I gave you my voice
I’d be amplified
But instead I find myself
Buried, dirt in my mouth
And I want to scream
Is anybody listening?
But it’s uncouth to do so, isn’t it?

I’ve gone through so much thread
Stringing myself back together
But I’m lumpy in all the wrong places
And I’m hard to love
And soft in ways that make me
Want to bleed out all over the floor
If you scratch at the wound
I’ll shiver for you

Do you think I was born this way
Or was it something I carved out?
There’s so much black in my eyeline
And so much water in my lungs
I’ve tried to swim but I like the way sinking feels
And I’m not going to lie and tell you otherwise

So if I’m there in the static
Lean forward and try to make me out
A tiny black and white excuse of a boy
I lost my best friend to
The heartattack promise of a kinder world
So maybe I’m not as solid as I used to be
That’s on me, I know

The mirror’s blurry
But the glasses make me someone else
So I guess I’ll make do
With seeing myself through you

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *