where they come from



they claw their way out of me

poems I never meant to write

sometimes I vomit them up

can't keep them down

the angry poems

you didn't want to see

I didn't want to show you


sometimes they take me by the throat

and I must

shout them out at you

or they will choke me


and then I am slayed by the tears

you hold inside

shamed by my anger

humbled by futility

and I crawl back into

the fetal lock of bones and


and wait for the next

violent storm

to give me a window on





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