my teeth are sharp.
they can rip flesh,
and split bone,
and so i will remove them
from my gore-stained mouth,
because i do not desire to hurt.
my voice is loud and
and so i am quiet,
because i cannot declare of my existence
without protest,
without endangerment.
i'll sleep outside if it makes you happy,
because you know best,
please don't forget about me.
your chains dig into my neck,
and i'll listen to your every word,
oh, tell me where i belong,
because my limbs are covered in dried blood,
and my eyes are webbed with cataracts,
and my neck is stained with rust,
and i don't think you love me anymore.
-icarus
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
