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LiteratureDefibrillator
Where does your heart beat when it sleeps? My darling, surely you must know you reap the anguish that they sow, and to your soul, their poison seeps… So plundered by these selfish creeps, such injuries, they do not show… Does your heart beat? I hear your soul, the tears it weeps; your love, it aches to freely flow, so take of mine and come to know, for I declare I play for keeps… Does your heart beat?
LiteratureOxymoron's Paradox
Change is inevitable,or so they often say,so why is it commonplacethat some things never change?
- Literature
capricorn.
they should have decided when you were born. you’re a freak. the concept of sex is about as broad as gender.many people don’t know that. they fight for their own comfort while i strugglewith the fact that my parents chose not to mutilate meupon my birth. why should i carry the weight of a whole body, while others tell methat i am disgusting for existing?Literatureit's november.
it’s november. it’s time for frost, and for old horses to be put to rest. i amnothing but throat. you’ve got more to say than what comes to mind. what messes we make,laid outside in winter. we share our dinner with the skinny wolf andspring bites at our heels. what doesn’t kill me today will teach you a softer story.to live through winter is a prize all on its own.Literaturegemini.
are you a girl or a boy? i am the leftovers of dying stars,i am the spaces in between them.my body does not define me, like how science can’t definewhat makes a black hole, and the song it sings.i am the same; beautiful, blurred, deadly.Literature(1/30) haunt.
sorry i buried your best friend in the front yard,sorry tulips sprung from their caving ribs,sorry i lived there too.Literature(26/30) more in sorrow than in anger.
oh, and with his final words i outlive the capacity for love. i told him, god, i told him, sword, in the name of your death. but i am a fool, to think he loved me. twice, i saw the ghost. twice, because i cannot count what became of your eyes. twice, because it is so common for fathers to haunt their sons. i could not cut down what tormented you so; i can only agree with you. yes, darling, i can see what you see, even if it’s fake, even if it’s not. there is a difference between yearning and craving. i watch you and i yearn. to be faithful is a curse. you are a snarling, snapping thing of a man and i love you. i yearn. and what i crave is for both of us to be free of it. how ill all’s here about my heart. i tell your tale. it is not a good one. i can’t believe you hated me so, to scrape what was left of you and put it out in the air. on my breath, you are beautiful, at least. honey-coated in the ear of the listener, calligraphy’d across a page. stop and listen everyLiterature(28/30) like i heed fire and thunder.
so i am sorry my love / for i cannot help but wonder / if i had not kissed your lips / would you have died the same / hanged the same / loved the same / i feel like a poison / though love you / i did / and love is a word for what i have done to you / though it does not feel the same / does not feel like a murder / which is what it feels like to me / and in balance i cannot help but equate / the kiss / to the hilt of a blade / to which i am holding the sharp edge / to which i cut myself on / to which i mean i thought about turning it on myself / and i should have / first / though at the time / it felt like a crucifixtion nail / and less like a breath of incense / you were my only friend / and i am sorry / but i couldn’t do better than that / so this apology is a length of rope / and this apology is the soldier’s spear / all the same.Literature(8/30) refraction attraction.
god, i wanna love so bad but i’m afraid i’m just not made for it - turns out i’m bad at people and worse at feelings. i thought i loved once. some things just wanna haunt you so bad, you know? that love’s a ghost. this ribcage a ghost town. i’m afraid i’d hear an echo where this heart should be, hear my own voice calling back to me; where have you gone?Literature(16/30)
oh, the world is small and in this modern time i am still working the fields in a time when no one gives a shit about the boy working the fields. there’s no romance to this. my back will hurt tomorrow, and the next and i will be payed. not enough but i will. the alarm sounds six am and i will get up to feed the horses. i will clean their wounds and soothe their anxieties and in turn i will lay awake until i am sick of trying to find purpose. rinse and repeat. - Literature
House Of Mirrors
A cutting gaze, the self-portrait's stare Practices mimicry to fool the eyes; The parts where light plays with air A sputtering maze of lens and lies. The foolish guise Of glass, a lair.Some are sneaky and stricken with lines Of deformities, other strangers Surely surprised; they sway like serpentines On the run from hidden dangers. The doppelgangers Of see-through signs.All these eyes, the self portrait's trap, To see oneself in such ways, a mess Of oddities within the mind that snap When revealed; a game of chess Cruelly skewed, less Shards through the gap.Something in the faces, the idealized Di...LiteratureShipwrecked
Silent as a foreign, bronze god in its shape, Toward an endless sleep it cannot escape. There is whiteness in space, centuries of sand That must be collected by speck and by strand. Already belonging to a spotless sea, Figures still litter like an ancient algae. The mind drowns, wanders when the spirit is weak; The eyes too heavy to see the crude fuel leak. Is it noble to die a slave, a machine Meant just to clean...or a thing free from routine - Silent as a foreign, bronze god in its shape, Toward an endless sleep it cannot escape?There is whiteness in space, centuries of sand That must be collected by speck and by strand. They remind me ...LiteratureNight Shifts Too Soon
When I look at you deeply what do I see? The person you are or I want you to be? The labored-over argument of ardor, Should I lift her high or quietly guard her? Her flaws are not flaws to me, but cause for soft Attention; the tides that rise and fall, leave coiffed And polished stones aside, beauty formed by wear. Is wanting to change what you love ever fair? To better myself, that I'll never not try, But to ask of the mirror a new reply... When I look at you deeply what do I see? The person you are or I want you to be?The labored-over argument of ardor, Should I lift her high or quietly guard her? It's the echo that's scary when I've sai...
LiteratureWitness
What shiftless fools persistence Does fence, who live life listless And blind; excess existence Without willing to witness.
LiteratureLotus of Countless Petals
It was but yesterday we met in a dream, like that first moment which scattered the stars into space. Our winged selves, a pattern, a stream of confused sounds, strangers to sweet music in such a place. Lotus of countless petals, suffer not yet my eyes to hunger for your face.By giving more of yourself, you give me all, and your love, with hook and scourge, makes puppets of my words in the way it calls and sings. For a voice cannot carry the tongue nor the lips that gave it wings, alone must it seek the ether, a breath to break down walls and tall things.You restless in rest, trapped children whom regret birth, come to the fountain and drin...LiteraturePrayer
All men Are menaces, amen. Common prey to indemnity, Threateningly Severing the atom, Nay, the stratum Laid there before Them; a muddying floor In a long maze. Let us pray, all manners of praise Are menaces. Amen, All men.
