My Mother
Posted by Justin Reilly | Filed under Poetry, Video
Untitled–Inspired by the youth at BNV
Posted by Justin Reilly | Filed under Poetry, Print
Relationships are fickle
like rainclouds
or hail storms
There’s always a 30% chance for tears
or rain
or lightening
Always a chance this clear Sunday morning
will become the calm before the storm
When I was a kid
I saw the sky turn purple
before the twister hit
funny
The color of nobility
would crown the sky
before it unleashed
some type of ugly step sister
an offspring unfit for the throne
and we
we never ran in the opposite direction
we see storms on the horizon
color blind and fearless
and freeze
retreat behind my rib cage
castled walled flesh
never seemed so safe
but it gets crowded in here
there is barely enough room for
both of us
amongst my organs
but if you get tired
ill let you use my heart as a pillow
the lining in my stomach as an electric blanket
and my lungs as an oxygen tank
so i guess you could say
we cuddle like anatomy does
or like cancer patients
wish they could
if they had the appetite for it
Have you ever seen an abdomen
implode
an organ begin to eat itself
because we self destruct like stomachs do
like cannibalistic self portraits
or mushroom cloud dreams
like poets do
