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  • Anxious Poets Society

Dream Girl


first, it singes the bottom of my stomach i’m branded, and I know it. my eyes grow tighter inside of their suction cup homes, as I twist them around in search of supplemental stimulant. this noise is never enough.

next, I become aware of my heart beat. each pump drowns me, sends shivers into the strands of my hair, oh god, let me find good grace at the top of the ceiling, or the bottom of my drink, lord knows i'll need it.

usually around this time I make a decision, or many, split static hairs with the stranger next to me, sir, I can feel your heat, I’m absorbing it because my cells are thirsty. will you offer up your skin for the sake of my sanity? drenched already, I despise slow answers.

if you never fantasized about fucking god, good. If you never salivated over steak knives, good. If you ever stopped my shaking, ever made me ache, so it goes. Just know that the price of a good time is the end of me.

 

M. La Colla Linquist is a bipolar poet from Lawrence, Kansas, currently living in Italy.

#eyes #noise #heart #drink #decision #stranger #fantasized #knives

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