serves: one (because you'll probably die alone)
difficulty: simple, but overthink it anyway
ingredients:
one cup anxiety
an ounce of depression
a splash of paranoia
a dash of deflection
a lack of concentration
the fear of rejection
garnish with mood swings
a side of obsession
served: on the rocks
(shaken, not stirred)
instructions: add tequila and drink until symptoms subside
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
the initial impact
the ruptured vessels
crying crimson
pooling up underneath the surface of your
fragile flesh
soft, breakable unlike the iron
that flows through you
then a swell
of black and blue
of violent violets
a nebula to remind you that you
are not invincible
are not invulnerable
will one day turn to dust,
a star of lost oxygen
tender to the touch
then the healing
a green gradation
yellowed edges
the swelling going down
the knowledge that nothing is permanent
that even your bruises pale
even your blood decays
even the galaxy imprinted on your skin can explode, collapse,
lost infinitely in infinity
the knowledge that even as you are getting better,
you are fading like the bruise
that once stained your skin
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC