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    K.J. Kogon - Eighteen

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    em moore
    Eighteen is struggling with growing up and desires guidance. They feel like a spoiled pomegranate that needs to spit out its seeds to understand itself better. The speaker needs a mother, lover, or God to show them how to express themselves through writing instead of just tracing in the sand. They want to consume words until the words feel like their own and plead to be reborn through resurrection with a divine figure's help.

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    K.J. Kogon - Eighteen

    Uploaded by

    em moore
    83 views1 page
    Eighteen is struggling with growing up and desires guidance. They feel like a spoiled pomegranate that needs to spit out its seeds to understand itself better. The speaker needs a mother, lover, or God to show them how to express themselves through writing instead of just tracing in the sand. They want to consume words until the words feel like their own and plead to be reborn through resurrection with a divine figure's help.

    Original Description:

    lavender bones issue three poetry

    Original Title

    k.j. kogon - eighteen

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    Eighteen is struggling with growing up and desires guidance. They feel like a spoiled pomegranate that needs to spit out its seeds to understand itself better. The speaker needs a mother, lover, or God to show them how to express themselves through writing instead of just tracing in the sand. They want to consume words until the words feel like their own and plead to be reborn through resurrection with a divine figure's help.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    83 views1 page

    K.J. Kogon - Eighteen

    Uploaded by

    em moore
    Eighteen is struggling with growing up and desires guidance. They feel like a spoiled pomegranate that needs to spit out its seeds to understand itself better. The speaker needs a mother, lover, or God to show them how to express themselves through writing instead of just tracing in the sand. They want to consume words until the words feel like their own and plead to be reborn through resurrection with a divine figure's help.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    of 1

    Eighteen

    Let me cough up this lump in my gut. This spoiled pomegranate


    swallowed whole. I’ll spit out the seeds and read them like tea leaves.
    I’ll split the rind and cradle my infant brain in the dimpled halves.
    I need a mother / I need a lover / I need God. Someone show me
    how to write with ink instead of tracing my finger in the sandbox.
    Let me tear out the pages and stuff them down my throat. I’ll chew
    on the words until I’m sure they were born from my tongue.
    If I fell to my knees at the dusty altar and cried, Lord, I need you
    to help me / Lord I need you to kill me like you killed your son,
    Could you do it again just this once? Would I be good enough
    to save? Send someone to lay with me while I am resurrected.
    My newborn body shall be full and blushing with life.

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