“A Grave Sense of Romance”
My romance with Death,
an intoxication in relation.
Cold nails, in repetition,
scratching down my naked spine.
Would She find me petrified?
Expired, in Her permanence,
lay a single kiss.
I sink…
I find myself lingering in it.
Blissful for a short while
then lived in,
readying to rot.
Though love I hold,
She is simple
in all Her permanence.
“Proud Pieced Lovers”
These bodies I see,
crippled with proficiency,
long to be left
to the rotting landscape.
Their reaching claws caught in dirt.
What once was pink flesh,
scorched in blackened earth.
Of those who remain-
perfectly inclined to something
of the deafening dark
and a profound kind of bleak.
Lovers of broken things,
inclined to the melancholy-
their sprawled limbs
grasping onto lesser diseased things.
Am I one of these feeble beings?
From which proud pieces
of utter meaningless
are thrown into a timely grave?
Ollie Groover
Ollie Groover is an American student from North Carolina studying Creative Writing. The two poems being submitted are pieces that have been inspired by their journey through adolescence as an “out” queer, trans person. They focus on their struggle with battling loneliness and creating healthy relationships as a mentally ill, queer teenager growing up in the “Bible Belt” of the America south.
Photo by Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash