If Drugs Came Coffee Flavored

rich roasted beans take the journey

to liquid form. they make their way

inside some favorite cup. engraved with

some favorite saying. customized

with some favorite picture.

for me it’s:

disposable. 

expensive. 

subpar.

                delicious.

                nauseating.

subpar.

expensive.

disposable.

for me it is.

with some favorite picture.

some repetitive saying. stuttering.

inside some churning belly. engraved with

stretch marks or rolls of fat.

to powder form they make their way

dull and addicting, through my journey.

©️Audrey Rosengreen, 2019

Melody

I heard a melody
in the mourning wake
of exhaustion.
 
Thought I found a way out.
Words stopped their flow
            	their trickle – viscous
                            	down my throat
 
Fearing the disappearance of air
but curious.
 
 Isn’t it a beauty?
The intonation, the mood of being
          underneath
         In her ghost.
         In his shadow.
         In my belly.
            Buried.
 
My poor Melody. 



Copyright - Audrey Rosengreen - 2019

Full of Shit

I can’t help thinking of you.
Your eyes, umber, do not move
when I say:
“mirrors open up
to a parallel universe”.
Your smile reflects
my foolishness though
you remain un-phased.
Instead you stir me
as I have un-stirred you.
You own me, lovingly –
without restriction to
my oddities in question
en masse. Yes, you move me
to a place beyond parallels.
Where our lips meet
between glass and past
the meaning of eternity.

“You’re full of shit” you say
and kiss me harder.  

 

© Audrey Rosengreen, 2019 ~ For my love. 

The Last Time

It’s just like the last time –
worse though, I think
because nothing comes to mind
mind you, when I’m minding
my business as intended.
Emptiness bubbles up
from an empty well and I
wonder, well, how can that be?
There’s always something
in the emptiness, I mean.
I blame it on the happy.
Casually dying –
freely, absolutely.

I don’t mind it much, though.
It subsides like
fire on scattered weeds,
no place for me to feed.
And that’s just fine, I think.
Right, just fine. Yet, so
unlike the last time.

 

© Audrey Rosengreen, 2019

Gibberish

I am another body perpetuated in a litany of the same old-
	same old words littered on stolen images. Hackneyed
like the rest of you. My words run as deep as the waste bin,
pooling at the edges -
	Did you know
freckles become the reminders of stupidity
built en masse by the eyes who adored me - relied on the way I
can open my body like the atmosphere. Catching fire
to pollutants - the way it burns reminds me of home. 
	I have a secret
that I can only spell here. This place that's gone
cold with dead quotations - wisdom lost on misspelled repeats. 

I still want to open. To bloom red against the darkening sky
and hit the Earth until I am one with it.
				
					Comfort them when they weep.



© Audrey Rosengreen, 2019