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Literature
i wrote this last night during a panic attack
claw out the eyes of god like you deserve to be the last thing he ever sees stand the hell up hospital girl and just once take the i.vs outta your arms like you actually believe you're more than just novocain and tragedy tiger-striped up in medical tape drop your damn crutches like you're dropping your jaw and for once talk like the people who're supposed to love you will love you this time you write so scared and you speak like there's hell in your throat and you're doing everyone a favor by locking it up you tremble like you've got lilies pinned to your spine and you smile like a dog kissing highway asphalt you're inhumane self-sacrifice sk
Literature
break / in two
7:02 a.m.
nothing hurts when i sleep, but in waking i glare at the mirror and want to shatter
everything breakable in the room, that is
the mirror the glass over the picture the perfume bottle the teacups on the bookshelves the
rocking chair the cartilage in my hand against the ground
low noon.
once again, they go as far from themselves as possible.
1:35 p.m.
AND EVEN GOD OH YES EVEN GOD OH GETS SAD AND LONELY AT NIGHT SO
CAN YOU FORGIVE ME CAN YOU FORGIVE ME
10:19 p.m.
palms pressed on clean cotton sheets,
she arches like a shooting star:
her spine cracks,
not all at once like the snap of a bone,
but like a branch
breaking under the weig
Literature
Empty But Alive
breathing you in, october
i taste the numbing agents
even on the very surface
of your conspiracy, this
prepping of the patient
this unworking of the earth
sealing it as-is
hardening the sites
of future graves, forced shallow
not harvesting, just weakening
arranging late-year stacks
of blurry panic, while disabling
the defensive response
so much decline to wage
before the winter kills
october knows i'm a fool
for the dark underbreath
of its dead open air
the howl of the breeze
through its night fields, empty
but alive, and so very not empty
its rhythm of silence
between barks and calls
stalls my heart mid-beat
i used to pray for its engines
t
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stop talking about breaking backs please
stop this tale of spinal snaps stop
speaking of vertebrae cracked and
slick jaws slacked and thick skin, black and
blue and trapped by silver claws and
asphalt flaws, those paper dolls with
scrapes and knicks and pumped up kicks
and eyelash flicks and glass shard bricks and
bones that roll and bells that toll
and flower petals swallowed whole
[ you speak of strangled skulls, hanged men afloat with rope round their necks defying gravity, the letters swept from their final breaths (no air no air no oxygen there): and how poetic it sounds to choke to death on your own skeleton, your own marrow, your own fucking shards of ossein ]
this is a poem about life and death that i wrote today in school when i was feeling anxious and thinking about Existence and i like it a lot and i didnt edit at all and i dont know what else to say because this is a Sensitive Topic that i dont really feel like talking about
i'm okay though i promise!!!!!! some Things and Stuff have happened but im alright QvQ <33333333
napowrimo day "20" / gliitchmonth prompt: scissors and bullhorn, rippers and bullseye
© 2015 - 2024 peaseblossoms
Comments14
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like the raw feel of it.
pretty descriptive, yet leaves much to the imagination.
I leik it.
pretty descriptive, yet leaves much to the imagination.
I leik it.