Some days she feels she’s filled with thistles. A prickly mouthful of mispronounced words. Meaning comes last, sensation first.
Some days he’s looks like broken glass and smells like barbed wire. A bloody perimeter, and no-one gets in.
Some days she’s packed full of autumns. Boots tramping brittle leaves. Bonfires flicker and snap and crack.
Some days he’s a walking spelling mistake. Well intended but poorly translated.
Some days I taste like pins but sing a song of threadless needles.
6 comments:
I seem to be a prickly mouthful of mispronounced words more often than not. The first sentence in this was particularly prickly and particularly wonderful.
[Hi.]
wow, what images this creates!
i have been known to feel one way or another at times...
I feel like a walking spelling mistake too. Problem is that I wasn't written using a human alphabet.
this was amazing - I loved it!!!
xoxo
g
this is excellent, wonderful collage of images. I particularly like 'well intended but poorly translated'.
well done Jem, I know some of these days - unfortunately
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