poetryinsepiatones

[poetryinsepiatones]

dude

i just found out i knit left-handed.

i knit left handed because my older sister taught me how to, because my aunt taught her how to, because her older sister, who was left handed, taught her how to. and it's like that one thing that went around for a while that said "you're face is from thousands of faces of people who were loved" or something, except all i am is just a collection of little habits and sayings from the people i've loved and the people they've loved over and over again. i am just patchwork within patchwork within patchwork, each something that was loved enough to be remembered

#poetry #writing #family #thoughts #thinking #emotions #my thougts #it makes you wonder #am i putting out what i want to be remembered for? #am i habits that attatch like tumors? #or am i little things that act like gifts to their heir?

[poetryinsepiatones]

when you’re lowkey venting to a friend and they try to lighten the mood

#i love my friend #but what the fuck #funny #humor #friends #i am no longer a poetry blog #i just post whatever shit shows up

[poetryinsepiatones]

i love emailing my therapist

#i wanted to be a super serious blog #but no #this is my destiny #i am designed to cause chaos #and be dumb #therapy #therapist #funny #funny quotes #lol #mommy issues #am i mentally ill? #or just really funny?

[poetryinsepiatones]

Roadkill Prophet

Death sat in crows and vultures

Burying their heads into the carcasses

Laid in asphalt graves on the side of the road

And when they looked up

Their bald heads transparent for a moment

So you could see Death's bones and blood

Shining in their face

Death was much more real

Till you drove past

And It flew away on rotting wings

Death lay splattered underneath car tires

Apathetic as they chased the white and yellow lines

Oblivious to the carnage in their wake

Yet somehow still hitting

The same body again and again

Till it became nothing more than a smear

A greasy memory on a commute

Only remembered at its freshest

With empty sockets

Bloody roads

And disgust at that dirtying

The lowest belly of the car

Death screamed in shiny eyes

That balked and dilated in the holy high beams

And teared up at roaring engines.

Proud, high crowned bucks and

Cowardly possums crawling across the road

Met with the same curses

Hearts stammering the same beat

Bodies frozen with the same fear

Splayed on the same sides of the road

But never in the same grave

Never in the same thought

Only revulsion for what was left behind

Death perches in the trees.

As you climb out the driver's side,

Panicked voice catching between trunks and stars.

Bald heads turn in unison

Watching you approach the corpse ripped in half

On the double yellow line

Bones and blood flickering under the flashlight's beam.

Death coats the bottom of your car.

It spills out from under the headlights

Paints the pavement in red

And drowns the tires

Dipping into every groove and peak

Leaving vicious fingerprints on the road.

Death floods the eyes.

There is no recognition of light or person

They don't even blink.

But the chest is still stuttering,

The hooves twitch and thrash

Its high and mighty crown scrapes painfully

But you take no steps closer

Not when it stares at the Devil

And you stand in his place

Death brushes your tense shoulder.

Trickles a finger down your shocked and rigid spine

Strokes your tear stained cheek gently.

Whispers into your ear

"Remember

You are lucky."

#original poem #poetry #free verse #death #tw death #tw blood #tw roadkill #i hope that makes sense cause it's called roadkill prophet #i used to watch for roadkill on my drives home from work #i wanted to write a poem about benevolent death #but nah #deaths scary as FUCK #new poetry #writing #lol

[poetryinsepiatones]

a letter

to those who will remain unnamed i thank you for my childhood the small clumps of hair we chopped off with safety scissors never really grew back the mud stains never washed out of my socks my knees still scab over from the carpet burn we got together running from growing up somewhere, in the basement, the tinny television set still plays those old reruns and VCRs we forgot to wind back and on some bench there's still the plastic sleeve covered in sticky fingerprints from the juice popsicles that our moms bought when we begged so we could save our favorite flavors for each other i still have the bracelet with your misspelled name strung on the blues you thought were the same shade in the flashlight's beam and in my drawer i have the almost empty notebook titled "Our Summer" with amateur signatures in the top right corner and smiley face beneath them that never got filled when you drove away in june you don't have one name and often i hit myself where you asked to kiss my cheek because i forget one of them and when i remember one i scribble it in crayon on my heart (i always forget that crayon fades like the drawings i helped you with when you were three) now, when i'm the age you were when you would push the swings because i was too short to touch the ground and my shoes would be too big to line up perfectly with your purple ones like you always liked to do i wish you were still here to split your jelly beans wait at sticky bus stops drink bittersweet lemonade and help me forget that one day you would walk off in your hand-me-down pants and take my childhood with you

#poetry #childhood #nostaliga #2000s childhood #writing #poems #quotes #original poem #its songs like hot & heavy by lucy dacus #and ribs by lorde #and turning out by ajr #that make you realize that your childhood is running out and fast #and you have these friends that are gone even though they made you #its beautiful #and heartbreaking #and i just want to be there again #lol