i am suffocating 
in coffee grounds,
choking on them
as they fill every
empty space within me,
and i cannot sleep
when i cannot breath 
so throw this broken body away
bury it in the field behind the grocery store
and forget my name
forget the poems i tried to write
forget the flowers that grew from my skin
forget i ever existed
because i never really did,
i was only a cactus in a pot
on your one sunny windowsill
that you only fertilized
with leftover coffee grounds


NaPoWriMo Day 21: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like The Color of Pomegranates and “City That Does Not Sleep,” incorporates wild, surreal images. Try to play around with writing that doesn’t make formal sense, but which engages all the senses and involves dream-logic.

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