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Saturday, December 22

hollow bones



you first feel it in the bite of the wind,
as it rolls around your feet, digging in.
uneasiness is frozen over the lake, thin like the beginning of a ghost forming.

when you speak, they only hear
the trickle of frustration. when they speak,
it's exactly what you don't want to hear.

i know you tried but sometimes you can't just stand still.
and when you think, it's cold stones in the pit of your stomach.

black skies dig into the dirt, on the way down,
your headlights flicker on a road in the middle of a long night.
you just need some space.

you're hoping by february, you'll forget the taste of 
his name in the back of your throat. you're hoping by february,
he'll have moved on.

it just tastes like a bitter wish.

so you bite your tongue hard enough that it bleeds
and pray that He cares enough to listen.

x\

6 comments:

  1. how absolutely lovely. i can relate to this poem so much. my favorite is the verse around february.
    you are amazing, cally!!

    sophy of sophyslighthouse.blogspot.com

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    1. ahhh SOPH. you're a gem aw :'))) thank you so much!! that bit is also one of my faces (is that vain??? HAHAH oops). x

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    2. also we're both on a typo run???? faves*

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  2. "you're hoping by february, you'll forget the taste of
    his name in the back of your throat. you're hoping by february,
    he'll have moved on."

    !!! Oh my goodness I literally audibly said, "DANG" at this line, like WHAT? Something about this is so sensory but also visual and I can totally picture that night drive and those feelings. That last stanza was killer, too.

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    1. AHAHAHAHH. oh my gosh. erin, i love the spirit you have. thank you so much. i'm so glad you enjoyed this piece. x

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