Friday, November 13, 2015

I want someone to love the shell I come in the fire I breathe
and know I have a heart that holds me choked, 
my poisonous irony, catch-22 honesty.
The best part of the mental patchwork is a ghost address.
I want someone to love being in my shell whether today my mouth is venom or if that mocking bird turns black.
No one else listens to prisoner's stories quite the same way as I do.
I want you to love me even if I have a baby that is just as blue
and know that I have a heart that holds me choked.
I want someone to breathe the same fire I breathe without scarring me or one another 
and we don't become stolen, underneath my blue, mirrors and ghosts, 
smoke, oil, ice compressing, 
my poisonous irony, catch 22 of honesty,
if today my mouth is venom and the mocking bird's songs go dark.
No one else listens to the prisoners’s stories quite as silent as I do.
Someone who loves even if the baby is blue, the fire I breathe, the heart that holds me choked, we don't become stolen, in my shell without scarring one another we breathe the same fire, underneath the ice compressing.