One-hundred and Nineteen: core

i am suitcase-hard on the outside
rings going round on the inside

like i’m a stale marshmallow
sometimes hard to swallow

i used to pretend my skin was leather
but now i see it depends on the weather

you can dig into me, straight to my core
it’s easy, the way i open, easy as a whore

i am strong enough when i need to be
but the rest of the time, can’t care for me

so you need to be careful, man
i’m strong enough to understand

that my entire life is a gentle crystal
when you want me to come, you whistle

and i listen. but you can’t put a diamond
collar on me for the days you can’t find me

you see, in my mellow liquid middle
there’s charcoal, i guess, not so fragile

man, do with me what you will
push, push, push. until i stand still


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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