just kidding it's another fucking llama badge
i hate llama badges
The Stolen PromiseOn the outskirts of town between old dark treesThe Stolen Promise by ClamShellHeart
Was an ancient well that could any heart please,
But it could be paid to selectively listen,
One bad soul bought it and for decades acted prison.
A girl ran away from home with a promise,
The elders in her home village claimed to own it,
She traded her heart, they stowed it in a cage,
She stole it back, bars and all, behind her dragged the chain.
Heaving, eyes streaming, she stopped running beneath the leaves,
Her heart rattling behind the bars but for a moment felt free,
Down the well a captive heard and started crying loud,
“Please, I’ll do anything if you’d only get me out!”
She, before the promise held, surely would have helped,
Now said “I cannot stop for you,” securing chain to belt,
But as she turned to leave him there the ground split dark and deep,
Her caged heart slipped from her hands and landed at his feet.
“Now you must trade me,” he said with her heart in his hands,
Moving to ClevelandAt the most inopportuneMoving to Cleveland by ClamShellHeart
I’m-Going-To-Fail-If-I-Stop-Focusing kind of moment
I closed my eyes and found myself on
faded graffiti moon, dead bedrock space shuttle,
but among the burned out ashen brush
there were clumps of flowers sucking on straws
stretching all the way back to earth’s atmosphere.
I was so distracted by them I didn’t notice the city
was my city
was cracking and starving
was my body
was my brain
but they were so beautiful I didn’t care.
Old men sit in coffee shops
wiping pastry out of their mustaches with a paper napkin,
hands retract back under a newspaper,
hair long and pushed back over a
happenstantial bald spot.
Animals gathered around
a watering hole in the desert
stomping in the dust, drinking
the desert away, not with alcohol
but media and caffeine.
The same way that photons
stretch and retract under camera lights,
I imagine the buildings would get shorter
if I looked at them long enough.
The concert tickets and fluttering hearts
Girl in sociologyThe girl in sociology with crystals in her ears with her back to the teacher, bent and penning down her fears, or maybe she writes poetry in long straight inked out lines or maybe she writes stories, maybe she works nonspecific wordly designsGirl in sociology by ClamShellHeart
I don’t know her name or age but she’s next to me right now, her hair is short, she wears glasses, she’s always looking down and flipping through looseleaf paper clipped together, the table’s hardly strong enough to hold it.
I wonder what she studies yeah I wonder what she thinks, I wonder what it sounds like when her poems live in speech, I wonder what she’s doing here, I wonder what she wants, I wonder would she talk to me or how I’d come across.
Would she think I was a poet if she saw me typing now, would she think I was strange if she found out I watch her scribble down a diary, I watch the crystals in her ears, is she learning sociology, is she even really here or is she somewhere else, oh maybe I could go,
Skin Is PaperThere’s a hand pressed into mySkin Is Paper by ClamShellHeart
sheet of a body and I can’t feel it
Setting fire to my
paper ribcage, my paper organs,
Charred around this gaping hole
And that’s where I was supposed to be breathing
That’s where I got all my
Energy for leaving
And I’m dreaming of asking
Giants for cigarettes who ask me about my past
And I’m dreaming that I actually
Have something there to say
Oh, there’s nothing left of me
I am alone near a bonfire
In the snow watching
My friend and her boyfriend hold each other
And I’m pacing in a circle
Waiting for it to mean something
Before I finally walk home
How can someone feel so heavy
But feel thinner than smoke on air
Rolling off the teeth of a stranger
The same as all the other strangers.
I am so bored, I am so
I am welded together so I cannot cry,
I am turning above a fire
Whatever is inside of me is in pain
And it’s probably going to die.
Maybe all someone needs to do is touch me
To punch th