spill them out of my teeth
from a bit tongue.
it's a marvel
without my grip on your heart.
a finger in
i can hear your
if my hand quits
you'd best pray
ice oreblitz of monotony
severs the brain stem.
can't see past
these open wounds;
listing my faults
in numerical tombs.
cacophony grips by
the wrists and
through the drainpipe,
down to the casket's
floor. more than a wail,
i'm by haunting
beats on harpstrings,
hardly a moment to breed
peace. leave me
for dead, no corpse
i'm at the loom
gravity poolshere the waves are
crests like icarus
and falls darker
here the years of progress
amplify the crippling flaws.
here are deafened ears
and broken jawbone shards.
here are all the kingsmen
clawing their clansmen to ribbons,
flying them high
impulsive coursescan taste your apprehension
but can't honor it,
too late to hold
despicable out of
my bones. out of my mind
with gears ground rash and
growing as blue
in the lips,
dull shudder of
hips and clouded sight.
as old ice,
slosh of consonants.
glowing like future-proof
pulled rudders list
till out of sight.
sound and lake,
cove and tide
open your casket to me;
i am a fog that devours.
there are not enough hours
left upon earth.
shamble of the loveless
fills lead air, it's ominous.
all of us stare.
waves crash in open mouths.
i am three thirds saltwater
and one gasp from coral.
but i feel the bloat,
there are parts of me
that make me weightless.
i'd hate to miss out
on the seafloor.
holiness lashes out,
overtures clash in emergency rooms.
iambs return in surges,
serpentine. flow intravenous
and curse with purpled skin.
death is there, it's horrible.
all of us swear.
wavering ashes test speech,
the sound rasps all it touches.
i'm wondering when i can
die. i only have eyes
to pretend i am human,
only have irises square.
may seem quiet and careful
i'm patiently wishing
grind me into stardust
with an effortless spur
and spin, your revolutions
dig into your skin.
i'm seeping in, particles
of meaning lost, fleeting as
the posture of the oppressed,
grieving the cross
of your lifeline and my loss.
raw still, i don't disperse
without fight. your mouth
flows powder, enamel and spine
crushed. cheeks flushed,
temperature rising. now
you're realizing that i
am a cataclysm born of
ode to every scar on your body that you don't namei.
wrap me up
in this earth;
it's cold here.
close these observers' globes
rite me deeper
down, never to
walk this pale dot
in this skin.
you say my name
and it's honey cascading.
hectares of eden.
clothes on the pyre,
lyreforms fitting my
bodice, i'm modest as
and began to
clutter the airwaves,
grave notes aching
the spaces between
maybe it's genius,
but it is certainly
rapt me up
in the sure
gold of running after,
the plot to be
grabbed by the trunk
and carved neatly within:
your bright orbits
when the world tiltslove, in less words than needed
and fewer actions. still evening
asking for meaning
but listen fast:
deeper in your shoulder-blades
it rings out, feel it course
from core to tip and back
to front. loud as the dawn
and louder even than the rattle
in your spine you think natural.
is the timbre
of truth that takes hold
of whole lives, the overtones
that hover o'er the water
and beckon life from
in the night it calls
softer, desperate, begging.
you, it proclaims, are worthy.
worthy to feel
and be felt,
and be known,
to ask and have someone
love, in less urgent scenes
and fewer axes, still.
deviationsdenizens of absence,
licking every scratch and corner
of the casket. nothing makes us active
like drying blood, brooding
in the catacombs, spastic.
panic in pursuit of the axe kiss.
abscessed and obfuscated,
grating teeth on old skulls
clamping and groove stabbing.
shattering on gold pulses,
demigods emulsify with lepers;
we're sceptered paupers adept in
adoration of femtothoughts.
deceptive auspices crawling
out of widow webbing.
weaving steady, creeping
down deep in throats.
the heave lets us know
we're potent. steep us
in each void for we are the queens
and the kings
california's in a drought and so am icalifornia's in a drought and so am i :
it's been days since ive felt the patter of
fingertips on my skin
- i arch my back into empty dreams -
i bare my neck, my bare skin, for you
god won't give me a reason to stop falling in love, and
neither will my friends
and im as good as gone when it comes down to you, don't tell me
i know the last time i thought about you, it was this morning;
i chased your scent into my pillow and left it there
so we chased stars, once, used them as a means
to an end, and we fell with them
i'm sixty percent water and forty percent love, baby,
and i think i'm all dried up from when i poured myself out for you
you're a california rainstorm : you're next to me and then you're gone
unlovelydo you remember, way back when,
we would wonder
or at least i did - i wanted it all
a thesaurus in your back pocket enchanted me
into loving you : and the way you hummed when i was in your arms, as if
there was nothing more in this world that you wanted
( i almost thought
you would choose me over god one day,
i only wanted
you to touch me with those piano hands )
you gave me two months and i gave you two lifetimes, worthless and sad
think of me time to time. a part of me still waits for you -
you left me, unlovely, i have never loved a boy
as i much as i loved you
goldbrick depreciation.the saga begins;
start war, i draw blood,
become the first
to set it off.
ingenuity and pseudo
are all i own
in this long-sleeved
with a mausoleum headdress
and scarf made of my loneliness
i’m a martyr
dying without a cause,
aching for veneration-
sleeping is my greatest talent
and the one thing
where i’m not trying to emulate
anything but passing away
but hey, everyone does it
so i guess even when i close my eyes
and dream i’m not very original.
badlands and bleached teethyour body is no temple,
boy; it's a wasteland.
you are the warring nation -
you're the wishbone weaponry,
hunger as the ammunition.
Sleepless Heavy-handed, depression is found tucked
behind half-empty juice bottles
and a butter drawer stocked instead
with cardboard boxes;
it's needle pricks,
prints smudged by finger sticks,
test strips dropped like breadcrumbs.
You'll ask what happened
in the morning
when you wake to a litter
of empty wrappers on my side of the bed.
I'll tell you I saw God
swallowing the world.
ezrahe’s a delicate
but tough boy;
his fault lines
his eyes still sharp
like astral streetlamps.
he’s fuelled by sunlight;
he soaks in golden.
words bounce in the dim light of table lamps
and if he can pull the hardest punch
it’s because of the anatomy within which
he's made a home for himself.
i've got a smoker's lungsgravity settles along my collarbones
and into the spaces between my ribs,
pulls me closer.
"am i going to die?"
and it responds,
i keep coughing up all the words that stick in my throat.
my lungs are trying to expel something but
i don't know what it is and
i'm dizzy from the medication.
i look back at my breathing problems
trying to find a correlation but
all i see are constellations--
no, that's just sp ot t y vision,
am i going to faint again?
i can't breathe, but
forgetting to breathe may be p o e t i c
but i never could breathe in the first place.
bloodthirstynow the sun sets at three p.m. and
they keep saying my name like it's a threat,
I'm chain-smoking dopamine and
the oxytocin has settled in my lungs;
they said stop binging seratonin but
my endorphins are
my lungs are blackened with clichés
that fill up my rib cage
and skitter across my heart,
"didn't you know you're a parasite"
but i don't say
"i'm not surprised."
haunting familiaritiesghastly teeth shining in the street lights
loud motor of a decade old car
and the rush in the pit of my stomach
as the wind bears down on my eyelids and reminds me of lost nights and freedom
i am home at last
sunnyside eyesshe starves herself for the aesthetic of it.
wintergirl, it's spring now,
but she is buried in regrets or snowflakes or ashes
they all burn
and her skin isn't ready to forgive her.
these rivers will not thaw,
crawling up the bones pushing through her skin
waiting for the hot spring(s),
but they're all asleep.
her breathing is getting slower
and her body is growing colder
please eat something
but she keeps counting calories
when she should be counting stars.
sienna skythe cherry trees bleed russet as the sky drips copper
and the terra cotta pots hum quietly to themselves as they watch the
click-clicks of the photographer--
sepia-toned polaroid summer sunbeam aesthetic;
ambrosiagas station princess
in chipped orange nail polish with
bleeding knees &
no place to call home-
you’re dripping mascara like
forsaken eyelash wishes
staring into the horizon nostalgic
your smiles laced with sadness
pretty girl in golden armour, you took
shears to your fern hair
and went chop chop chop
you locked yourself in bathrooms &
turned all the lights off
you’re an endangered species,
but you’re nothing if not endurant;
diamonds shine through gutter grills and
some sorts of beautiful
can never be broken
goddess girl, you
red velvet (r/h)opeswe have mastered the art of filling the s p a c e s between our words
ing over backwards for other people,
folding ourselves like origami swans
to fit into places we don't belong.
but we deserve bigger, and better;
we are designed to colour outside the //lines//
and to s
our watercolour dreams into the skies.
we are meant to exude,
painting the clouds wi
(pyro/hydro)phobicliquid, lucid dreams drip
down the fireplace and
you sit with your head in your shaking hands.
you got the family heirloom of flame red nerves,
and maybe this is why you're so afraid of fire:
you're always getting burned.
oh, darling, you have a panic attack
every time someone strikes a match
and you're exhausted of the nightmares,
you almost drowned the summer you were 14
because water is better than fire
better than burning
better than this
and the waves were far stronger than the
ninety pounds of you,
they dragged you
u n d e r
but at least that made it harder to feel.
sometimes you have to drown to douse the flames
because your medication stopped working again and
nothing else works
poured into concrete breaking down walls
covered in limestone and scale
throat hoarse from screaming 'no!'
battered body broken by the bay
and bygones are now bygones
because he left you there to stay
otherworldlyoh, it's an ache,
one that can shake you to the core
and leave you at a standstill,
unsure of where your center of gravity lies
(even when it's supposed to tell the truth.)
you are the earth of the universe,
full of life but ever alone.
your equinoctial point is the equator
and you're four seasons into a show
that keeps repeating but you can't stop watching
because you have nothing else to do
and you feel as if nobody likes you
and it's 4 a.m. and you ask yourself,
what is the difference between being human and being lonely
underworld affairThere are daisies blooming in my lungs
and my heart's been replaced by the sun
How do you fit a life of words into an
Write my suicide note on my grave and
remember to leave me flowers;
I'll be choking on the weedkiller in
less than half an hour.
Sometimes it feels like I won't live
to see another sunrise;
if this is suicidal so be it because
I'm here and I'm real and I'm alive.
Happiness always feels a size too big and
sadness makes up my skin
I'm here I'm real I'm alive I am hurting.
Leave daisies on my headstone so I have a flower crown;
my love, don't forget me.