This Is Not Art

Poetry to Split the Social Order

Monday, December 27, 2010

What we Carry

All of my beautiful angels are hiding their scars behind their backs
Carrying around stones in their chest
Fathers screaming about death in the middle of the night
brothers with nose lined nightmares
O my little heart
I am rocking you back and forth
in dreams
I love you and every night I pray
you turn your back
on all those pills with bones on their face
O Dear Father o Dear Mother
O Dear Lover
please rock me back and forth
I am so scared
So Scared of Life

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