Years After the Burial, I Still Write
Dear______,
I demand you to drive this whistling ghost
out of my apartment! Her lungs are
cracked indigo bells bundled up in a
grey gauze hum—she’s as sterile as
a linen sternum without anatomy,
and her spilled sentences from old
needle-flesh séances have ruined my
carpet. I demand you to catch a train
in the dead body of winter, to not
breathe a syllable in a haunted Northern
forest whose filemot shrouds are
marched and lymph-less. I demand you
to grieve with your blood orange lungs—
every platelet in her sharp carbon/oxygen
coughs smashed between psalm and
procession; bloom and epilogue.
Ad nauseam,
a sobriquet.
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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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