How to Feel

“This is how to feel,” and I feel it,
hard, like a sunken stone in my stomach.

The wolf in my throat chokes,
gnaws it like a bone, raises its haunches
and howls with a blood-speckled maw.

You taught me how to feel
and I whimpered like an animal –

shot.

Now only the hunt.
Now only the endless trembling.

Is this how you imagined it?
The twisting of a head –
towards the moon or towards the dirt?

No. Only this:

shaking, shaking, shaking –
to see which breaks first:
your spine or my jaw.

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12 thoughts on “How to Feel

  1. “…hard, like a sunken stone in my stomach.”
    Yes. I know that.
    Reminded me of this little twitter-thing:
    PoemsPorn: “I don’t think it ever stops hurting, giving somebody the best of you and watching them chose someone else.”
    Me: “Except when they choose no one, just not you.”
    Ouch. Yes. I know this.

    1. Awesome, I’ll follow you! And yes, I do the tweet thing… it’s embarrassing, really. Showcases less of my poetic side and more of my teenage-angsty side (or are they the same?). I’m @unwillingmuggle 🙂

  2. The word “shot” sits alone in its space between longer stanzas which made me hear the sound of a gun. It made my stomach drop. It also sets us up for the violence “shaking, shaking, shaking” of the last stanza.

Thoughts? I love those.

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