Boy Learns to Sew By Mica K

Boy Learns to Sew

You gotta learn to love
what can kill you in order to survive.
This is why I’m enamored with God,
the ocean, and the palms of my hands.

Everywhere I go, a piece of my heart
is asking for something. Muddy street corners
turn me into a beggar. Sunsets turn me into a poet,
which is another form of beggar.

I open my mouth and church bells fall out,
crack open when they hit the pavement.
Doves and orphans climb out of the shards
with my songs in their throats.

In the window of my kitchen
there is sunlight. Look through the window
of my skin and you’ll find an ache leftover
from wisdom teeth, piles of salt, piles of unthreaded
needles, all the dreams I’ve buried like ashes
in the backyard beneath the maple tree.

I keep pricking my fingers on accident.
My mother says, “It’s all a learning process,”
the blood on my shirt, the oversized stitches,
the wounds in my chest that never seem to close
no matter how many times I mend them.

By Mica K

Biography:

Mica K is a twenty year old Virginia kid who gets sentimental about constellations, sunrises, hot tea, and good poetry. They were more than likely born with a book in their hand and a poem in their mouth. They currently study English and Creative Writing at university.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s