Milk Me by Artnemesis
Post Mortem
by Kayla Barker I am a walking, talking universe of dead poets who tattoo their stanzas into my flesh with ghostly, typewriter fingers. I live and breathe their worldly disasters like a nicotine addiction I've never had. Drowning in their scribbles I kiss their shoreline romances, envy their Annabel Lee's, & carry their hearts in my heart. I am 7am coffee on Sunday mornings: a half drunk, hungover limerick waiting to happen. I am jealousy: nothing more than weak words, & a tongue-tied cliche- but death becomes me.
|
Noncorporeal by St. Koleva-Niavaah
|