Crave
For G. H.
The secondhand smoke on your old hoodie
is tendrils of disembodied electricity
mercilessly carving through my diaphragm.
Somehow, I envision ivy climbing the side of an
abandoned house in unkempt droves of static
veins… My throat is cruel in the way that it seeks
you, like in the way squatters seek warmth behind
boarded doors that won’t easily open up.
If we ever kissed, I imagine them dwelling both of
our atriums and airways simultaneously,
and zero degree weather would use our breath
to leave crudely written IOU’s on the only
window still intact. I’d think an angry ghost would
appear, and remind us why we’re there in the first
place. Even then, I’d still like to believe
you’d give me a light all the same.
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Pride Ed
Hello! Just call me Pride, or Bluebird. I've been writing for a little over a decade now. I won some money here and there, and I'm in a few books of poetry. But, I still consider myself a novice when it comes to writing poetry. I learn everyday! My themes/styles/literary movements are all over the place. I attribute that to my reading whatever I could get my hands on in my youth. Never limit yourself; explore genres and things you think aren't for you. You could have a surprise waiting! :P I'm gonna be honest; I only made an account here to experiment with the Poetry Genome, but I kinda like this site now lol My main platform where I post poetry is here -------->https://allpoetry.com/Pride_Ed (registered users can only view right now)
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