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Literature Text
For sale:
One body,
Thin but warm.
Red hair,
Blue eyes,
Bony wrists.
Soft skin.
Smells like milk and strawberries.
Price:
One love poem.
One body,
Thin but warm.
Red hair,
Blue eyes,
Bony wrists.
Soft skin.
Smells like milk and strawberries.
Price:
One love poem.
Literature
Her Life
I saw her life in those eyes
with cut-throat stares
and withered looks of daze,
each lid half open
and their cores darted where
they thought it was safe.
Her pupils swirled as hurricanes
with streaks of rain
maroon across a razor blade.
Sharing what words can't speak
and luring in the
sting of the day.
I saw her life in that skin,
painted with a tiny needle that could
delve deeper in what she knew
and who she was, then what.
Like an apple tossed aside to rot
darted across were plum-hue stains
and beautiful scars, an abstract dance of
healing and hurt.
Covered in what she screamed,
her body was masked in poetry,
long-tol
Literature
Angstxiety
I am work weak on Wednesday
in a heap of hangover and hesitation
with fingers on a phone haptically
actively anticipating feedback—
I need that why do I need that.
My angst and anxiety
is constant and courses
and throbs with a pulse
that demands concern
of a baby boomer crooning poetic
in the distance to call me antisocial, or you know,
you could just call me.
If being this busy in an age
of constant communication
feels like having slept
but not feeling rested,
I'd rather cancel my plans
like a responsible millennial
and go to bed.
Literature
Triscuits
Jenna comes into the room with a packet of triscuits
And offers me some.
They are salted. I don't like salted foods;
They're too much like the ocean.
Jenna, skintight leggings,
Comes into the room with a packet of trisctuits.
They make an odd noise as they're chewed,
Like the grunts of a broken bone.
Jenna used to sail the seas but now
She can just open a packet of triscuits and tell me
How much she loves the prairie wind.
'Cause it's endless like that, 'cause it's yellow like that.
She looks at me with a mouth fulla triscuits and she dares say
That the house is too empty.
It's got walls and a floor and you're saying that you wa
Suggested Collections
Based on something old. I'm not currently for sale though! 
In love.
In love. © 2013 - 2024 SugarHeartedGirl
Comments4
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And add: one heart, pumping with love ... lame, I know, but for me, at least, it's true. If someone wrote me a love poem, I think I'd die of happy and marry him immediately. Also, yay for redheads!