Blood Dreams

Weird Poetry

My womb dreams

Of careening crimson ribbons,

Of bleeding ripe petals,

Of sloughing and sighing,

Of meandering streams of melodic melancholy.

My womb,

That sacred stitched space of fecund shadow and halcyon hell,

Dreams of shedding its skin of memory

And its gauzy forgettings.




*** Be careful with all of that blood loss, Angel Eyes.***

*** I never worry about blood loss…. ***

Cursive Knives

Weird Poetry

***Warning: Contains references to suicide. Just a piece of poem… nothing to worry about. ***


You don’t have to want to die

To be a poet.

Actually just wanting to live

On this planet

Is enough suffering to inspire

A teetering eternity

Of tortured suicidal poems.




*** So you listened to Bikini Kill again… and wrote a cringey poem. Predictable. ***

*** Kathleen Hanna is HOT. Also, I am NOT suicidal. ***

*** Still awaiting my blood moon, and my tears are bruising my cheeks. ***

Poem inspired by…

“Bloody Ice Cream” by Bikini Kill
The Sylvia Plath story is told to girls who write
They want us to think that to be a girl poet means you have to die
Who is it that told me all the girls who write must suicide?
I’ve another good one for you,
We are turning cursive letters into knives.


Image cred: Googlygoooo