Vulnerable

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Oh baby, I should hold my words,
draw back in my breath.

The things I say to you
just shouldn’t be said.

What am I thinking?
I’m just not thinking.

Standing with my heart in my pocket
as if it’d be okay to lose it.

What is real and what is an echo
tangle me to the place that I am swaying in confusion.

And truth just falls out.
My viscera at your feet.

Disemboweled by the casual flick
and falling word from my own tongue,

I can’t cup it back together.
The damage is done.

You know me.

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J.DoeJ.Doeover 18 years ago
~

Vivid, shocking imagery with your human anatomy metaphor, but I believe you can sharpen it. Cutting away the little words would improve this poem greatly.

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