Exclusive Poetry Feature: “Our Sockets Won’t Stop Bleeding” by Leah Bushman

Wendy on my wrap around porch saw you first. 

Wendy on my wrap around porch saw you first. 

Saw the dust flying from the back of your pickup truck. 

Saw the dust flying from the back of your pickup truck. 

Wendy first, saw the dust of your back porch

wrap around the flying pickup truck from on my. 

 

Your eye socket black as coal pierced me, I think you are my soul 

your eye socket black as coal pierced me, I think you are my soul 

mate is the coupling of two same souls, shame is the mirror I hold. 

Mate is the coupling of two same souls, shame is the mirror I hold. 

Eye coupling black shame I hold of two are mate,

mirror socket pierced same souls, coal is you think the.

 

You leaned in to kiss me and your socket had grown an eye gone crooked. 

You leaned in to kiss me and your socket had grown an eye gone crooked. 

You pulled back searching for a pain, plucked out a tooth wriggling with worm. 

You pulled back searching for a pain, plucked out a tooth wriggling with worm. 

Kiss me you searching pulled pain, wriggling with your plucked back socket. 

Crooked worm grown a me and had an eye gone tooth.                       

 

Wendy saw me and you coupling, first had shame flying around mirror sockets.

Dust your porch of pain, pickup the worm grown searching of a mate,

a soul pierced black with truck coal is wriggling on my crooked. 

Kiss an eye I hold a tooth pulled back.

Plucked you from wrap leaned think,

gone are the same two socket of me.

 

Leah Bushman is a nature gazer and animal lover who rarely takes life seriously. This is her first publication. A Towson University graduate with a B.S. in English, she can be found on social media at @leahbushman.

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