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literature. by the-chemical-factory

Literature by RustyMutt

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Submitted on
May 19, 2009
File Size
2.2 KB


95 (who?)

they asked me if there was something
of yours that I wanted to keep
I wanted
to keep your eyelashes, your breath,
your blood
I said this, and they looked
sad, said they meant did I want your
clothes and possessions, your things

I didn't know what I wanted
cradling my head with my arms and
quietly saying no over and over
my mouth
dry with the taste of morning sickness
and old seawater

a month later, I wanted all your clothes
I was scrub-faced and tired
the yellow
of the walls hurt my eyes, buried in wet
towels, sleeping naked on the floor every


I fucked somebody else
after the funeral
"somebody else" sounds wrong now
as if you are still alive, kissing
my shoulder in the morning

I'd taken cocaine
and it made a sound in my ears like a hummingbird

like tinnitus

like someone banging on a door or just that tiny high pitched scream
that someone starts to make when they have grown tired of crying
so hard


your mother was fixing my hair in the kitchen
a bobby pin tucked into her mouth, talking
about the first time she got drunk
she took
the pin out of her mouth and said it made me feel
like I was really saying something
, bit down on
the edge of her glass
she looked old like
she had died too, and I couldn't see anything
of you in the lining of her face

she poured
another gin and tonic, laughed a little as if
at herself, said but I wasn't

we began to drink
like drowning women
trying to wash away the dirt and grief and earth
that you had left there


it was a whisper at first
soft little whispers that hung against the walls like fog
until the whisper became a voice became a shout
became a howl that ran its fingernails down my face

and I huddled in the shower
wet in my clothes
holding it in like a bowl of blood
Add a Comment:
babyhallow Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2014
The first one reminds me of how I felt last month when my father died.
SameStripes Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2013  Student Writer
this is so fucking beautiful.
killerlord123 Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2013
Life. Death. What are those? The only things we have for sure. Ours or somebody elses.
AnotherPassenger Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
this work's title has been used in a poem here <3
Lacewinged-Beauty Featured By Owner Dec 15, 2012   Writer
I really adored this.
completeaccident Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2012
Yes. Very, very well done. Thank you for doing this so well.
Hfeather53 Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Wow. Very intense. Beautiful!
sleepysheepdog Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2012
after she died, i fell into the doorframe because i couldn't feel my legs. shivered and shook in the arms of men who had hurt me. took a pair of elephant earrings and a dreamcatcher pendant from her jewelry box. have dreamed about her almost every night for a year and in them, she cannot talk. but her mouth is always moving.

this was extraordinarily written. i was actually nauseous by the last line: a bowl of blood. and i think it's only a matter of time for it spills.

amazing poem.
sleepysheepdog Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2012
before*. ahaha, another mark of a good poem; i'm making grammar mistakes while tripping over my admiration for this.
secondhand-wings Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
it seems very particular to say in the context of such an emotion-based poem, but the way you broke the lines up seemed very specific and really supports the whole piece.
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