Modern Art

Cover Image

I scream in my sleep and pretend I don’t have a voice when my eyes are open

My voice drips down the back of my throat like melting wax

I’m cheap cloth on a wireframe skeleton

Held together with expensive thread
I have this rotary motor that pushes oil like tar through the plastic veins of my body

I’m recycled straws and partially melted containment organs

When I smile the corners of my makeshift mouth leak gasoline
I’m spot-welded metal and rusted spray-paint cans
I am disposable modern art, in the back of this gallery

I find myself drowning down vodka and orange juice, my liquid mood stabilizer

I try to keep the worst parts of me in check to avoid becoming the reflection of the illuminated screen
I’m a train wreck inside

The more I talk, the less I feel

I’d like to bleed morphine and cheap malt liquor

I dream of injecting a brand new me under the scars of my arm, deep underneath the dead track of a former addiction

I used to push my love through a needle

I’ve traded my worst parts for the love of you

I’ve scattered around the pages of a notebook

I speak from the heart when I speak of you

My heart

A muscle I refused to feed or acknowledge

I drained the chambers of this rusted machine, and you filled it with new blood.

Created: Apr 16, 2014

Tags: poetry

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