skin peels from bones, submerged in crimson liquid:
and if you were to look inside me,
damn aesthetics, break my ribcage free and
delight my lungs with your tongue of venom,
your eyes would light with glee at the
the worst miraclereading my drunk poetry about you
makes me feel drunk again
dizzy eyed, violent desire
you’re the only calm to my storm
with respect to my past self,all of my writings have led up to
y o u and m e
and i should have known before we even started,
i warned myself before i even knew the color of your eyes
i listen to too many 8tracksi've never told anybody this,
but i'm telling you now that someday
i'm going to swim into the ocean
and never come back.
i'm going to swim so far out
that not even the largest lighthouse
could find me. i'm going
to let the seawater soak
into my veins until i'm bursting,
salty with the bitterness
of all the times i never had,
like the nights you rubbed
circles on my back. i'm going
to fight against the current, knowing
that i'll be defeated before
i even begin. it doesn't matter
that someday my body will be found
by either man or animal, for this body
is mere transport; my soul
will be of the sea, of the tides
that wash onto the shore and cling
to the sand. and maybe,
if you look closely enough,
you'll find me riding the current
probably a few weeks agoyou’re seven cups of coffee in and it’s 1 a.m.
the waffle house countertop seems
expansive in the dim light.
for the first time this night,
you deny your waitress the right
to pour you another cup.
if coffee can’t keep you awake,
you lay a tip on the tabletop when she is
bent over her phone.
she might be your age,
rings etched under her eyes
from a procession of shifts spent
waiting for the sun to rise.
outside, you spark the lighter.
smoke slides down into your lungs
then shoots back out your nose,
curls in haloes above your head.
wade out into the adjacent field of barley
where the plants are hunched over
in their opulence; teeming with granules
that beg for the harvest.
cup the soft soil in your palms,
mix it with the scintillating light from the diner,
and realize you are only just beginning to understand
the complexity of things.
saccharineshe’s made of cotton candy:
spin, twirl, break, then dissolve.
sugar rushes through her veins,
viscous, arteries clogging
from the buildup. her eyes are filmy
and she leaves a sticky residue
wherever she touches. many
find her a delight but she rarely stays
for long, her presence disappears
as their lips forget her name,
their tongues forget her taste.
she starts everywhere and ends
nowhere. parents warn their children:
stay away, she’ll make your teeth rot.
yet they persistently return
with their nickels and dimes,
insisting on just one more taste.
seasonal reflectionsi. autumn arrived with a reckoning,
the pine cones held secrets and they’d whisper
to me in the night as their sweet wood hands fell
to the ground; i tasted maple honey
while sticky fingers scraped bark
that screamed sweetly to the sunset
ii. winter came slowly, timberland
freeze and peppermint icicle swirls
on frosted puddles as cold as Siberian igloos,
Eskimo girls in bear skin hats and leather gloves;
i was never one of them but i heard
they breathe out steam in glacial time
iii. spring bloomed and so did the bruises,
black and blue like Van Gogh’s starry
night, minus the stars; my teeth grew crooked
as wildflower veins and my hair sprouted
like meadow grass, i pretended i was a coppice
nymph and at dusk i sang with the cicadas
iv. summer sought the hidden gardens,
the scorched earth cultivated secrets in barren
soil, foolish, i dug for the answers but uprooted
only last year’s seeds, tore the foundation down
with broken nails; i danced with honey feet on
It’s been a year and I can still remember waking up, disoriented and alone. You were my compass, and you left. I don’t quite know how, but I’ve managed to make my own way without you. And it hurts. God, it hurts. Sometimes I wonder where you are and what you’re doing and who are you with? Are you with someone else? Are you with him? I know you won’t ever receive this letter, that the postal service will realize how hopeless these efforts of sending this are, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help that I still think about the way your lips fit perfectly with mine or how right it felt to be with you. I know that this message will end up as one of thousands of others in the dead letter office but maybe, just maybe, it will reach you.
Six months and four days: that’s how long it’s been since he has sent the letter. He lives in New York City, in an apartment that he still has yet to pay
Theological Semanticswe are on vacation in Florida
when she asks me, “what is God?”
and i correct her, “who is God?”
and she shakes her head, repeats
“what is God?”
the sea sounds fill the gap.
i can see a storm roll in
over the ocean expanse
and i take a breath and answer:
God is all of the things that can’t be explained
with recitations and verses.
God is the space that empties itself to tangibility
and the ghosts that scream in the wind.
God is the meaning between the breaths and last night’s
whiskey running through your veins.
God is the reflection in your eyes and the mist exhaled
into January nights that evaporates under the moon.
God is the sounds too high to hear, frequencies
not meant for humanity because we would misinterpret.
God is all of the pasts that never were and all of the
futures that will never come to be.
“does that answer your question?”
and the sea washes
away our footprints
The Eventual Give and TakeI can always tell when I’m pushing you over the edge, and I want to stop, I do. I want to close the wounds I’ve opened, to patch you up with dollar store bandages so you will no longer bleed sorrow. I want to make it okay. I want your eyes to shine like the stars you capture and your smile to reflect sincerely when you look in the mirror. I want to please you and I want to unburden the weight I put on your shoulders. I want you to be joyful, but not happy, because happiness can be washed away as quickly as sand is pulled back into the sea. I want to be your escape, not your prison. So give me the key, and I’ll lock it away with all of the other things that I want.
My dear, what you lack in understanding you make up for in insolence. You have never come close to pushing me over the edge. You have never made me bleed sorrow. I may appear to break and bend to the whims of your subconscious desires but remember: an ounce of advice makes for a wealth of p
BetrayalEvery day the same old lies,
That cut and sever weakened ties,
Of bonds that were never meant to be,
Just drowning in an endless sea.
Of strangers in a faceless crowd.
It's because of you,
Now I hope you're proud.
Of what you did to this now tainted soul.
Beaten, broken, swallowed whole,
By the darkness invited to envelop my being.
They always say that believing is seeing.
But I guess that's just it,
you see my forced smile.
After all it's been plastered on my face for awhile.
But is it too late? I don't really know.
But the longer I sit here,
The more darkness will grow.
Am I too far gone? Is there no hope?
Will I keep slipping down this bottomless slope?
Do you see now what you have done?
I give up...now you have won.
I'm trapped, enslaved in this dark empty trance.
I say I am fine...
But will you risk that chance?
Aurora CorporealisOn those days, you leapt from planes
unafraid to fall because you were already flying.
On those days, you did not speak
because the words slipped between your vocal cords
and could not make a sound.
On those days, I could see you through vast skies
over open oceans and beyond slow-falling snow
because you stood so tall in a crowd of billions.
On those days, you were the northern lights
and the whole world became the southern hemisphere.
On those days, I watched your horizon turn on itself.
Frost crept over your limbs and hail fell into the firmament.
I was not afraid because I did not understand.
On this day, I erode under warm water,
crumble into clay against the wall,
hyperventilate as steam fills my lungs
and I write my worry into words.
I am afraid because I understand.
JudgmentCapricious, erratic creatures,
You observe the likeness of unknown features,
Condemning, curving your mouth with disdain
For the decorum of oneself shall obey your malicious reign.
The abomination you painted in your narrow mind,
Was no more than an eccentric brother yet to find
Utter compliance you seek,
Yet of vain dejection you only reek.
The enmity that guides your every line
Is but poison you gulped instead of light so divine.
Depart from the ignorance that compels you,
Underneath the deception lies all that is true.
GayI am gay.
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
There is a weight
You asked me to hold.
(Just for a while,
Just for a while.)
My tendons strain and snap,
I lack your Atlas strength.
The crushing force of gravity
Makes me weak, makes me sore.
Take it back, take it back,
But you’ve gone away.
I’m sinking down, I’m sinking down.
The water rises to my throat.
Pushing down, rising up
Drowning and drowning and drowning.
Take it back, please take it back,
Where have you gone?
I’m pinned beneath this weight,
With water to my nose.
My lungs fill up with salt,
Choking and screaming and breathing
Only freezing thickness of water.
Where is that mild friend oxygen?
Where has he gone?
My stinging eyes are blind here.
I cannot to escape, unwilling
To shed this leaden snare
Wherein I dwell confined.
I grip it tightly.
Surely I will die,
Sweet air has left my blood
I lay back and let black water take me,
Frozen fingers loosen on Your weight.
And all at once
it falls away
I watch i
HetaliaxDepressed!Reader:Self-Inflicted AchromaticHetalia x Scary! Depressed! Reader: Self-Inflicted Achromatic
I want to be a person just like you, don't you see?
I want to be a person who is still being "me"
A tired sigh escaped your lips. You were just so damn tired. The other countries said that you, (f/n) or (c/n), was scarier than Russia himself. But of course, you have lived 2500 years with wars and bloodshed always trailing after you. You just really want to be happy. But all those wars and blood imprinted on your mind, you really just released off a dark (a/c) aura and a stoic atmosphere.
It really would be nice but I'm paying a price
'Cause I'd really, not be me and that would not suffice
You asked yourself, "I know my face doesn't show my pain. But isn't it obvious in my eyes? I'm lonely and hurt" You rubbed your numb (s/c) wrist, yesterday's cuts still had a colorless ache to it. You picked your silver knife, twirling it around watching the others argue. The said knife is the one you also use to cut yourself.
A dream which
The GardeniasI told you I had wildflowers growing in my veins
and you thought it was quaint,
so when I took shears to my jugular -
you wouldn’t help me cut them out.
You thought I’d be opheliac
if they bloomed, splashing white
into my already paling wrists.
Maybe you thought the perfume would purify me
and being a tragic heroine
would be better than just being tragic.
Their roots choked out my heart and
to my blood
as I died,
drowning in the after-effects of Pretty,
all I could hear
was you telling me that you loved
that I had Gardenias in my eyes.
On losing a friend(it did not end in tears.)
I could give you armfuls of oceans, great
mountain ranges wrapped in silver bows,
a coral reef gleaming like a sapphire chain
but you will always ask for a dormant volcano
and a star you can hold in your palm.
And I have tried to be that star, have tried to
combust bright enough, shrink small enough
but it is never enough for you. You kiss my
mouth with those carmine lips and swallow my
heartbeat with your gentle laugh and I glow
I glow and you go you go you go on stringing
me along a trail of crumbs, making me forget
that I am starving myself for your table scraps.
I could press the slats of pre-dawn light into your
answering machine, could fold dust columns that
fall between venetian archways into your bedsheets,
could hang the lost jewels of jaguar fangs clattering
above your dreamcatcher and you would only ask for
a dormant volcano and a brittle sea-salt glass wave.
And I have tried to capture the tides and I have tried
to blow glass but my hands are clum