dig right in me

by suicidallyanonymous

Lay your tears to rest
in my skull like jewels,
to fray
my love for tragedy
and shake the world away.

This house is cold
inside summer ovens
of tar and butter,
where hammocks leave
crosshatched dreams
in my back.

Wild things and
paper routes;
a crossword puzzle
telling your life’s story
in riddles.

Maybe they can sting
[the heirloom habits]
like words in our eyes,
to dissolve yesterday’s
Bosnian rainbow.

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: