Submissions by newfangledpoet

i have some skeletons in my closet
that come out to play and prod, to

rehearse those old wounds
that gave them away to the cobwebs, to

sing lullabies into my bruised ears
when momma says i’m a failed abortion, to

kiss the jaundiced soles of my feet
so i may learn to run, jump again, to

read bedtime stories to me
under the dying light of the moon, to

tickle a laugh out of my miniature lungs
when alcohol turns into rage and blood, to

teach me to tumble, fall, roll, cackle, gallivant,
get back up...