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Literature Text
i trace the veins on your pale chest as we sit alone in the silence
dreaming of days when the world will decay away and leave us
watching it burn together.
combing your hair and whispering your prayer as the night sinks
straying away from everything in life that makes you human
because mummy told you not to.
poison crawls under the skin streched across your neck slowly
etching forgotten poems in your old, ivory bones without
you even realising.
Literature
Bones.
We are made of smoke tonight.
We are made of deep pits of longing in our stomachs
and years of waiting dancing across our eyelids.
The earth does not exist tonight,
and there is no rust beneath my finger nails,
no glass between your teeth.
There is only you and I on the edges of town,
where the dandelions fell and the fire swallowers hid.
Our footsteps in the grass creak like breaking bones
until the drill bit stars are sobbing our names.
"You'll live forever," you whisper, breath hot on my cheek,
but my heart beat fast until my chest caved in.
Forever can't exist if we haven't lived at all.
We fall from the ferris wheel
Literature
Emotionless
I only show you the outside,
on the inside. I'm broken.
I keep all my emotions bottled away,
you think I can't express them.
but I do. I want you to see that.
These are my emotions,
scared, hurt, angry, sad, happy.
Plenty more, but you can't see that.
You wanted my life,
my emotionless state, it's a curse.
I can't bear to show you my emotions,
my sorrows, my pain.
Always know just because you don't see the inside,
doesn't mean it's not there.
Literature
Broken.
i.
My mother doesn’t wear her wedding
ring anymore. Instead, it sits on the
counter above the kitchen sink, like
she took it off while washing dishes
and forgot to put it back on; but I’ve
seen her pick it up and wipe the counter
and walk away, like she no longer
recognized it as her own.
ii.
She and I have the same long, slim
fingers, except hers are clean and
manicured and tanned, they’re used
to flipping through old books, still
delicate and fragile, with arthritic
veins tracing through; Mine have
always been pale and torn up and
raw from anxious nerves, tough
callused finger tips from encounters
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why do you always tell me what you want to hear?
Comments9
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That is an amazing beautiful way to talk about IV drug using... interesting.