Cliche me into your drunken worn out lips.
And when I'm about to fade into your headache put me under your words. Keep me innocent with
your filthy mouth. I want to be the argument.
The pain in your roughness when you scream. Use me to fuck all the pretty girls and then
bend me over until I curve perfectly for
your poetry when you find
the one.
I've fallen in love with the way your voice trembles and sinks around your throat. I love when it chokes the softness out of you before you pray to be a better man because your moans are so much deeper and bigger when you're looking for reasons to change.
Put yourself in my mouth for inspiration, tear me apart with your hands, make me soak through you with all your passions and all your insecurities until we are together. Make me into the grooves and loops of your secrets and then tie me into a knot for your
peace.
I long to be the longest thought moving across
your fingertips to write me over and over.
I caught your tongue and I spit me out as I am
your muse rolling my body for the end of all your
sentences.
YOU ARE READING
dirt & human
PoetryThis collection has the dirt for my grave and my soul for God but when it rains there's meaning for my muddy heart. (Some of the poems are older and published already, I moved them to this collection, so if you recognize a poem that's why.)
