Sweet ink,
lost you in doubt
Darkening corners
Scared and trapped
Find me
Please, find me
I need you to survive
My outlet, my energy
Just a small fuse
Waiting to be nurtured
I’ll bring you back to life
Dec 13, 2022
Dec 13, 2022 at 11:44 PM UTC
Powdery flakes poisoned,
like orange juice on a sad day.
Stale snakes,
squeezing me: my throat.
Can’t breathe no more.
No alms, **** being poor.
Going 1-100 in less than 3 seconds,
rushes faster than sports cars.
Never ready for it,
but always ready for the next piece--
excitement and like little dolls
unable to express my emotions,
stoic…sick and stuck hazy phases
ready to re-phrase my life.
Time to get out of struggle-- done with strife
Knives felt too easy—I like--
challenges feel like sweet marmalades
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
Tweet, tweet,
feeling feet,
pinky toes interlocked--
sheets like magic carpets--
an escape with wings.
Air lifting up
from lungs,
unable to breathe,
greed, taking my last breath
just to feed--to eat--to need.
Pouring liquid fantasies,
like fingerprint dandelions,
ready to bloom ,
until erupting from cocoons,
padlocking us in cages,
draining our veins,
feeling our shame.
I forgot to heat your porridge
for long enough.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
Drink the gasoline.
Gag. Rub rest over body.
Step three: light the match.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
Residual visuals
write again
lick the pen
forming words
venom skin
haunting chimes like holy bells
docking in the waters
flooded rhythms ribbed with sin
lavish favorites framed thin canals
rapture by the dragon's dust
feeding on the angel's wings
sleeping to sounds the zombie sings
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Crayola, brick red,
tearing open a new pack--
our favorite color.
Rebels, scraping, up,
indifferent to lines, down--
our favorite color.
Paper became ill fit
bodies became canvases--
our favorite color.
Our bodies, our tools,
crayons never left our side--
our favorite color.
She built a train track.
It only took seven years--
my favorite color.
"Follow the straight line"
Giving up on her sweet dream--
her favorite color.
I looked down at her
letting the brick red stick drop--
my favorite color.
It's in the casket,
but brick red forever is
our favorite color.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Poison-filled pupils,
plagued from plucking eyelashes--
I want one more wish.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
Bleeding razor blades
cry beautiful, painful words
yelling for an end.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
I was only four
When you first left me alone;
I cried in my sleep.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
I am sick
of waiting
for something good
to happen
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC