CheyenneDrew
bread is what did it, made her this way
not gluten bread
she has a lot of it
tucks it beneath folds
under her ass
on top of bones and meat beneath shirts
all hidden as this delicious counter part
that i like to call fat
she calls it cushion
that feeling when you just dont
dont move
dont go
dont speak, they talk to you and you stare... just look
im tired
i have no idea, which happens a lot i suppose, nothing, blank and time ticks ticks ticks nothing. silence
claims are made every day
cars,
houses
those words
the ones that are whispered or yelled
in a brief hint of passion,
but all can stake hold of a claim
but is what claimed the real thing
is it everything you say it is.
think about it
do you really want that right now?
who's stopping you from doing what you want besides yourself of course
because it always will. that thing in the back of your head telling you not to
that is your force to be reckoned with, yourself. you must beat this force, you must tell it that you will control what you have.
here is an apple for you
husband
you may have it,
i just picked it
from among many others
which had fallen to the ground
but i picked it up
whipped it on my overalls
like my father used to do
i only took one bite, husband
you may have the rest
i picked it just for you .
i might
go for a while to sit
but not smile
for the one he gives me
is shadowed and worried
does he know today
will he know again
can he see me or
is it just a face,
my hair and brown eyes that look nothing like his
but my teeth and nose
my face, is his.
and so the world was over
gone and we left it there, like that
traveled into the next
then the next, and
stayed
where we found things
to replace what was lost
and forgotten
we dream of the old place.