an homage to the suffering

any man would be happy with me
because i was born to suffer

when i told you i loved you
i meant it—:
my honesty comes
from the backbone of my throat
where i keep my unspoken words
they fester there
tied blisters to my heels
like the aches that lace my soles
loving you hurt

 there are times, i too,
want to know this life:
its curves
its concave back
its insides—turned over pink
fresh and raw
like a blooming crimson tulip
taut and plumb

i was born to suffer
like the oyster
caged in its shell
shucked
plucked for a pearl
or forced to procreate alone
in the depths of the blueblack sea

 there is a loneliness in this world that
hums in the steps of a widow
lurks in the shadows of our subconscious
it’s stitched in our skin
we wear it with fear
and it hangs
laden with a decline
that slopes
along
the curve of my spine
and sinks
into the ground
opaque with
the tears
that make
the ground so fertile

 

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About laurenfedorko

Aspiring writer. English teacher. Philosophy: know more about the world than you did yesterday and lessen the suffering of others.
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