visceral girl
body pierced
heavy guts and organs
dripping through
the second story floor.
hot and waxy words
thick poetry seeping in.
pouring out.
not a sound.
no way to tell.
limbo?
purgatory?
an apartment?
2006
Poetry by Deena Marie. I once read in a book that DREAMS are the "healing waters of the unconscious" and knew if I ever published a collection of poems, that's the title I would want. I am best at writing about heartache, dark times, loss, empty space, what is not. It is one of many forms of expression, therapy and most importantly, healing for me. Please pay attention to the date at the bottom of each poem! I no longer feel poems should be kept private. In the end our words are all we have.
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