Every lie
I’ve told
Every lie
I’ve believed…
Author: Mx. Lavender
You don’t own me,
I don’t know who does,
but it sure as onions isn’t you. …
To the bandaid from my wrist,
that ended up on the trash bag
I filled with 5 cent recyclable…
The ghost of the oven.
The stalactite rounded channel.
Haunts my wrist…
When one designs
a pie chart,
one generally keeps…
They are called beach waves,
because they resemble
water…
The moon is a lemon wedge
that’s not even a metaphor…
Tonight I’m going home.
I’m pumping my arms-
faster is better when porch…
I cry,
you hold me,
and I can’t stop…
The baker cuts shape,
out of the flattened dough.
Each time the metal…
Daily Poets 