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4 Poems

Eleanor Eli Moss

This isn’t terribly pressing      but
at some point I’m going to need help
finding myself      I’m hiding
in the transparent section of the forest
Bright-eyed & ready to fuck
something up      There is despair
in my soft tissue      My mouth fits easily
around these words      I’m
gender’s worst customer !      I’m
taller than anything & hungry for heads
I have learned no lesson
What animal am I ?
No, like this Use the chalk

I’ve decided to stalk the abyss      It’s high time
it’s had a taste of its very own medicine
A new morning blooms      What nonsense
shall befall my heart today ?
      An old man wakes in darkness to
warm up the dawn      The deer shows me
its deer      Pigs rooting around
in the underbrush      In the mud      In my
small intestine      I’m going to swallow
this morning like a drug      I’ve time enough to
fall into despair & still get away clean
I’ll do my best to cry myself into being a person
      A barn owl perched beside the highway
An ocean of ants slowly swallowing
a sleeping robot      & so on

Oh, bother      I spent all my money by accident
again      These crises sprout like weeds
The lunar phases of God      I don’t think I need
all these heartbeats      I don’t think anxiety is
working for me      I’m gonna try
wrapping my bones in soft fabric
Cut me some slack, I’m alone      I’m not even
the boss of my own love      My heart, a bunker
of ghosts I didn’t break the window,
you know I just came to tell you
it was broken It broke & now I’m sorry,
but I really do have to be going

Would you trust me in this dress ?      I’m
trying to push my body to be a better body
It isn’t going well      I’m depressed, but my skin
smells like peppermint      so it can’t be all bad
Wait      Is throwing up peace signs
my entire personality ?      I keep circling this hill
by accident      The problem with
a good imagination is that everything ends up
disappointing you      Ants all over my heart jam
      I’ll be disappointed in my very own death,
most likely      Sure, you died of a broken heart
      That’s cute      But give it a rest

Eleanor Eli Moss is a bat who loves drama. Find them lurking on Twitter or Instagram @fanghoneyy