Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

Heart, Eyes, Spitting

i could choose to spit out words
but i’ll attempt to desperately eat them with my eyes
hoping my lies can outwit the hurt
cloaked in contempt for myself, an exhale sighs
through the vents of my face, my hot insides
piercing the cold snowflakes buzzing around me
with little daggers of anxious hell that finally
welled up inside of me and staggered drunkenly out the
door, charged with bolts of heat, riding out the
storm, the tides in my veins hum, vibrating like
an electric fence, subsiding into me again
blood cells like water sinking into sand and
sliding back into my heart,
to be spit out again, so that i continue not to die
but continue to fall apart

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