Impaled With a Pin
eleven said open the window
cracked and bleeding
sunlight bruised skin
the sunlight hurts eleven’s eyes
she wants to take it all in
bludgeoned by the truth
like a baby seal
pure viciousness
in her skintight pants
the negative space V in the middle
slurring ever since
comforting sharp points
hands in her pockets
a lodge in the windpipe
the anthrax of tacks
feeding sheets of chemical afternoons
precise rectangles
a cerebral box
huff and puff
blow me across the room
with one big gust of wind
and goes behind a cloud
gathered and curled
the collected moans
held within herself
they grow bold over the summer
just another hell of echoes
© Deep Piercing Cut
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem