It’s a tee. It’s a dress. It’s the new Graphic T-shirt Dress.

Split Tongue

Hooking my heart on words that did not know me
I rolled them around my tongue
And the forced pretense of
Slithered under my belly
Splitting my tongue with tasteless nouns
Fucked up verbs and worms hacking my adjectives

Drinking dry water
A well of thirst broke the illusion
Who gives a fuck?

Alone and counting tulips I desired
To be seen as pretty
Untroubled
Reasonable and desired of tasting
No-one gave a drop of liquid care

Keep it all quiet in whispers
Settle the quarrel under blankets
Say it in the exhaled breath
Dioxide and pale nearly death

Deep water is cold with love
The heat of the nothing cure
So we play the game of acceptance
Prancing with the correct words

Veins pulping a tired blood mash
Oh
Too much
Always too little
Throwing the knowing stone the wrong way

Go on run away now
That is the ammunition that always fires
Run for cover
Hide behind the elocution of acceptance

Standing in line identical by outward skin
Some of us still
fall out
slide out
Inner ‘no- fit’ markings stand out

© K S Hardy 2010

Split Tongue

Arcadia Tempest

Joined November 2008

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 72

Artist's Description

Ok…. I fess up

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