she was invisible

as if she had no edges of her own

 

just a Heart moving through space

 

searching the world

for the beat that bore her

 

 

 

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When the truth rings through you

like a bell of horror

the metal in your mouth so strong

you can’t swallow

 

denied betrayals

take up every last square inch of your head

your heart punches back to your spine

lodging itself under your sternum

back between your shoulder blades

 

truths that tear at your flesh

dismantle your hearts secret wishes

and tell a story you never wanted to hear

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are stones in my throat now

where the anthologies used to be

when I took in all the water

swallowing it whole

when I watched my good heart float away

my body thrashed for a little while

the dangling of my feet began to slow

finally my bones were still

what seemed like lifetimes passed in a moment

sadness filled my eyes

as all the water gushed out

I called after my good heart

come back

 

 

 

 

your hands so strong as they move along my skin
your smell lingers so, leaving me weak, as if trapped forever in a dream

(Dana Atwood © 2018 The Writers’ Suite Sessions)

 

 

Am I such a simple thing
that the unyielding touch of a man’s hands
could turn me into this lascivious woman
unbridled by the ghost of your loverslock

To be continued…
(Dana Atwood © 2018 The Writers’ Suite Sessions)

 

 
 

I dreamt I was drowning
opened my mouth wide
taking in all the water

entire civilizations slipped from my shoulders
anthologies dislodge from my throat
fall from my tongue
jostling past the grip of my hostile teeth

feet dangling
my good heart floats aways

(Dana Atwood © 2018 The Writers’ Suite Sessions)
 
 
 
 

Did You Know

When you came to me
that night
with all of your words in one breath

did you know

how I held my feelings
as you stood there all blue eyed
tall and grinning
towering over me
touching me
with those hands

did you know

where I held all of my hope
could you hear it rattling around in there
like a handful of picks
lost inside the hollow body of one of your guitars

me in my black slip skirt
you in your torn blue shirt

did you know
I would get lost in those words you wrote for me


(Dana Atwood © 2018 The Writers’ Suite Sessions Photo: ‘Dana 2018’)