ImmuneI do not pretendImmune by Meggie272
the earth loves me.
Darwin breathes down my neck.
The ocean breathes down my bones.
I am a flute hollowed
by spittle and rain. And I am not
special, nor alone.
I had an ear infection when I was newborn. Two
hundred years ago I would have died from it. I
would have been cut short -
small and screaming.
Every time I step outside at night, the trees tell me:
you’re not safe. A thousand antibiotics
can’t make you safe.
I’m not frightened.
I would lie myself down and wait for the tide.
I would do it any day.
to everything there is a seasonI.to everything there is a season by Meggie272
as a flower or a man,
i shall burst,
as a corpse, i shall
peel away, and
return to the earth,
the air. i'll be in
your lungs yet.
look, it’s not that i’m not
a little bit charmed
by the concentric circles
of existence, and the love,
the bitter, bright and
it’s not that i don’t like
carrying this body that is a miracle,
a miracle in the sum of its parts.
kahlo got it, she knew what
she was talking about –
but i won’t put words
in a dead woman’s mouth.
and the hot sweat of it here,
the pain, the fuck and the sour wine
of it here,
it isn’t really chaining me
down. i’m thinking of
did i ever tell you
i’d like to die on my back,
looking at the sky?
in one of those faraway places
i saw from the car as a child, the top of a hill
seen from a distance; someone else’s farm,
someone else’s land. someone else’s emptiness,
a thin line of grass between
dirt and the inf
art feature thingFor each of the 10 first people answering this journal, I will put their name and the 3 deviations I like most from their gallery on the list! If you're featured, you have to do the same in your journal, putting the tagger in the first place. The idea of this is not to get a free feature; it is to spread art around for everyone!art feature thing by suddenbanana
Featured me: Meggie272
to orpheus, whose only fault was wantingdear eric,to orpheus, whose only fault was wanting by sleepysheepdog
you scare me most of all because
i can't think of anyone who loves
me more. you communicate in baked
carrot cakes and replaced tires
and your jacket sleeves reaching
past my fingertips at the poboy
festival in new orleans. you speak
in acts, when i envision you
you are always doing something,
sweat on your tan tan brow
carrying boxes to the attic
with the hidden light switch;
chopping shallots and quizzing me
on steppenwolfe singles between
swigs of beer; wiping a dirty rag
across your forehead and telling
me to dig out a phillip's screwdriver
from the toolbox; chugging water
after you take the bc powder
for one of your thunderbolt migraines.
you forget to rest
you get sick in the bathroom and
leave for work, coffee drunk & boots laced
you leave for work
you leave me wondering how i have a right
to your quiet regard
i went to an academic boarding school
for high school. i pushed for it, begged
for it. you told me over the phone the
first month i was away that you
I loved you, so I drew these tides of
Men into my hands
And wrote my will across the
Sky and stars
To earn you freedom, the seven
Pillared worthy house,
That your eyes might be
Shining for me
When I came
Death seemed my servant on the
Road, 'til we were near
And saw you waiting:
When you smiled and in sorrowful
Envy he outran me
And took you apart:
Into his quietness
Love, the way-weary, groped to your body,
Our brief wage
Ours for the moment
Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape
And the blind
Worms grew fat upon
Men prayed me that I set our work,
The inviolate house,
As a memory of you
But for fit monument I shattered it,
Unfinished: and now
The little things creep out to patch
In the marred shadow
Of your gift.