I’ve been really struggling to write new poetry lately, but I did write this poem today. I don’t know how I feel about it yet, which is why I decided to share it right away. Maybe you can tell me how to feel.
How to appear vulnerable without telling the truth
It’s early August and I’m trying to be a better person without quitting smoking. Still can’t tell the difference between desire and intimacy, but the stripper and I are wearing the same perfume, so maybe when you called me a whore, you meant it. The tattoo artist asks me if it’s morning or mourning, I tell them it’s like the beginning of the day, rolling over to check the obituaries again. I know people can’t die from a hangover—but I’m googling it anyway. This time it will be different, I will eat it piece by piece.
Thank you for reading my poem, How to appear vulnerable without telling the truth. If you connected with my work, please comment and let me know your thoughts—it would mean a lot to me.
Until next time <3
the word plays really make you sit with it and think for a moment. Thanks for putting it up for me to read :)
It's poetry