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Human Nature

every time i am not quiet

it does not come naturally to me

like every time i have tried to retract as though

i am an ever clenching fist

i am pried open and studied like a common specimen

unique only in that i give way too easily

and emit a scream that sounds like a song

my melody is indecipherable

and the lyrics are as you like it

so my prongs attune to the pulse of your want

and i say the words that make you soft

it is only when i am silent

lips stuck like a leech to warm flesh

that i do not accept the saw that threatens

to cut me open like the log down the flume

when my words do not ebb and flow

like the river you often skip pebbles on

that i am withering, tinged with a browned hue

i am in need of your callused, leathered palms

to sprout me where the soil rakes fertile

far from where the ripples crash on

i am really contracted to the ground

where i can never confess a single violence

or reckon with my debts to the gardener

subject to a thousand portraits where

i can hardly recognize myself in the frame

and still i am aching to unfurl my leaves

yearning to photosynthesize the scraps of sunlight i receive

into fumes that i breathe hot and heavy

like the cloak of a cloudy summer heat heaving into my throat

and coaxing the words out of my lungs


Editor(s): Chelsea D., Alisha B., Blenda Y.

Photo Credits: Unsplash


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