from nerves, I cannibalise my fingers
my blood clots, and dries out
crusty and painful
yet I keep on pressing, biting
because it gives me focus
a sick type of satisfaction,
a sense of control.
I whine tears leak out, my eyelids stuttering,
Tired
my fingers bit, bone exposed and ******
my fingernails and fingerprints
all gone,
remains lay in my stomach
acid consuming the scraps of skin
this is what I call my very own cannibalism.
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
the sea is sleeping against a summer tree
waiting out the storm
when winter comes it'll give up
knocking on doors
tearing them down
it all makes sense
growing in the winter
falling in the autumn
a quiver in the summer heat
as I know
as I know
I cannot go,
I cannot go
cannot stay.
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
Responsibility is not a choice.
it is given,
it is gained
seemingly out of nowhere
it creeps up
when you're sleeping
when you're trying to open
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 4:06 PM UTC
Breathless,
Hands lay flush against my head,
their Fingers pale,
gripping tight on the small unripened fruit,
slowly Climbing up and down my skin
poking and caressing my lungs as it speaks
giving me burns of varying degrees,
you twist and they turn the colour of red, purple and blue
the only thing holding the blistering skin together
are stitches that haven't yet given,
my blood is forming slowly
it dribbles down like spittle
and as it clots you split
digging your fingers inside my flesh
and I am infatuated
head lolling
eyes shivering
bones sore
as if they are pleading for a way
for a way
a chance
to slip away in peace
with you by my lonely and lowly side.
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
Floating on my bed
was hoping for autumn
yet I woke to spring
watched as fields of tulips spread
heads bouncing in the breeze
purple, pink, white
they shied away from my peering eyes
my slick hand held as a hostage
sweat covered in a thick layer,
the grass tickling my fingers
as the shy sun slowly started closing in
it was time to go home
away from my small paradise
it was time to float again.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
An ache
A pain
Scars
a bottle of pills
alarming rates of imperfection
at which make you give in to the temptation
An ache
A pain
scars
doubtful lips full of smoke
a monster a ghost
hiding in my bedsheets where I rest
I speak open and loud
My throat raw and mutilated
My heart aches
My pain suffers
My pills threaten my headache
My scars keep on forming
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC