porcelain hands
bash against me now
shed your knuckle velvet
love all over my body
reddened broken people
hot flashes, dark-eyed
malicious games disguised as
dribbled scarlet pearls
fall down all your fingers
make me want to love you enough
to reel back in hurt
for all we’re worth
is the skin on our bones
and the tear of our flesh
and the fall of our bodies
down into the dirt
—
A poem inspired by thinking about how weird bloody knuckles is as a game. Did anyone else play that as a kid? It was all about hubris, and so strangely masochistic…
Thank you as always to all for reading! :)
About the Creator
angela hepworth
I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope; I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.
-Madoka
I’m Angela! I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, dumb self-indulgent stuff, and much more. Come check me out! :p
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