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Literature Text
Oh bring me a backbone to breathe with
There is no other patchwork skin but this
ribcages catch the heart, spring a leak and bleed
but drowning lungs trust that nothing is amiss.
Oh silence me foolhardy lips,
speak your sorrows to the air
for collarbones and handlebars
have all but rusted beyond repair.
There is no other patchwork skin but this
ribcages catch the heart, spring a leak and bleed
but drowning lungs trust that nothing is amiss.
Oh silence me foolhardy lips,
speak your sorrows to the air
for collarbones and handlebars
have all but rusted beyond repair.
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Not sure, really. I've always loved using organ/body images... this just came to me today. Something about being weak, being bedbound... sick or injured and unable to move. Yeah.
© 2006 - 2024 deadthingsdontfly
Comments5
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The narrative and imagery are great and it flows well too. I'm a fan (and perhaps an overuser) of such imagery as well. This is a very good poem, I just think it ends too abruptly. I was really waiting for just a few more lines. I wonder if this poem came from experience or did you just imagine it?