“I watched my bride / make eyes / with the real boys / & knew I could kill for her.”Tagged: LGBTQ+ Poetry
“The kind of love / I learned from movies / & what light swamped the air / as I shoved my bald pelvis into hers / blood ripening into wolf brine / burning a girl-shaped hole in the clover? / Every afternoon I became a god reinventing sky.”Tagged: LGBTQ+ Poetry
“The bitch in the photograph wears my face. I cut off my nose, her nose collapses. Chop down my hair & hers shrieks from the sink. How many poems do I have to write ‘til she gets dead, how many live-wire syllables? I drive a fork into her heart & she comes back a quart of blood-hyped milk. Some girls…”Tagged: Poetry, I Hate Myself, BPD