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Literature Text
I think there is a ghost in my mind
making sharp shocking twists and convulsions
like rolled velvet flung ripping against
I-77.
There's a ghost in there, behind my eyes.
Glinting between the tiniest mossfibers of my tangled iris
it snakes, friction creating static sparks
There's a ghost there, for now,
but I fucking worry at anyfuckingmoment it'll
be loose like a bloodclot badthought
barreling recklessly through me
lodging in my lungs suffocating
and bursting through my eyes like bird shot
But it's there now, twitching like an
excited atom waiting to be split.
making sharp shocking twists and convulsions
like rolled velvet flung ripping against
I-77.
There's a ghost in there, behind my eyes.
Glinting between the tiniest mossfibers of my tangled iris
it snakes, friction creating static sparks
There's a ghost there, for now,
but I fucking worry at anyfuckingmoment it'll
be loose like a bloodclot badthought
barreling recklessly through me
lodging in my lungs suffocating
and bursting through my eyes like bird shot
But it's there now, twitching like an
excited atom waiting to be split.
Comments1
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Today was the right time to hear your words in my head again - “small comforts I can afford” so that I may come to read this when it’s right. Today is the 35th birthday of my own beloved ghost who didn’t live to 30, and I’m grateful to you for sharing your art.