Here is a poem that I wrote on the subway this morning:


I'm cutting open my stomach
to see what's inside.
Digging out a bowl of sorts,
carving it out like a pumpkin.
Ribs breaking and scratching
as I burrow deeper,
Dry broken skin
raising up in a soft rounded
edge, hugging the bowl.

Come sit with me, by my side
hold my hand as I weather away.
Grab a scoop and dig with me,
shovel out my shit.
Drench your hands in my warm pink juices.

I'm getting carried/carry me away.



2:48- Not bad for a first go, but certainly a little gross. And I didn't title it, oish!