Sticky Bones

I woke up; you are in my bones

I’m thirsty with sand in my eyes

I feel you wrapped around my bones

Like cellophane under the muscles 

Woven tight while I was sleeping

 

The night before you lured me

Then promptly turned me off

My stomach rolled over itself 

 

Still I fell asleep easy; I’m taking a break

There is so much work to do

Rain on the window is mellow

I’ll make coffee and phone calls

To wash away your stickiness

 

It’s a secret; should it be

That word I thoroughly hate

I’m strong enough to forget

I knew what I was facing 

Hiked my skirts stepping into the boat 

 

Pandemic and my mind loses itself 

Angry, lonely, confused, and wiser

Defects rising from the bed

Not discarded, accessible and visible 

You’re a sphincter around my neck

Keep your Devil in your pocket

Run him over your brain’s train track

 

I’m lying all the time

I’m fine; I’m not angry, not hurt

Not crying over nothing real

Look away, walk away, mind my own business

Not feel you in my bones; I’m human, woman

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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