Onion Poem by Minnie Gehrig

If I concave of love n misery
stewing in the broth...
peeled in peeled again
die..
bleeding of myself.
layer by layer pulled back..
new skins emerging...
into thy mouth..
sweetness n bad breath...
things left for unsaying...
left for dead in glad wrights....
thinking of Dom the unfounded artist..
whom will spill on every page..
a lust for life..
n I will live my life between living and dying...
every breath saved under the glass...


n how I've missed my soldiers' waiting...
glass hearts
steel minds..
whom cannot leave there ladies waiting..
yet somehow leave behind...

n made myself unwavering..
hinges on Pandora's box..
Sylvia's last breath tangled in knots...

bleed on Edgar's white lament..
that ever true loves spent..
only by dying...

is this all..
we give...
unwilling n strong...
just a rose in the hand...
a sad sad song...

things I cannot forgive I write..
my own tragedy in dawns twilight., . n still I breath..
though every sight..
is an exhale of you.....