I got sore lips,
rips in my stitched together soles
beat up bleach stained clothes,
pockets full of prose.
I got low self esteem
in the morning in seems
like waking up isn't enough.
I got regrets like rain drops
in a storm that puddles up
in the form of poems
that keep me alone.
I got moron inked on my head,
Irony tattooed on my ass,
because I kick myself
every time I pass
up a chance to speak.
I got weak with my words
this week I couldn't
get them off this page
I got you stuck in my head,
because you got my heart
jumping in my throat.
Now I got cavities
from chewing up love notes
I wrote so sweet for you,
because I got the heart of a poet,
and the vocal capabilities of a mime,
but I swear I'm just a grand gesticulation
away from your infactuation.
YOU ARE READING
Thresheld
PoetryMy life is a series of thresholds that I overcome through poetry. Love, loss, pain, regret, humor, irony, word play, and even sarcasm are as much apart of my life as they are central to my poems here. I am Thresheld. UPDATE: It's been quite a few ye...
