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esther-4
esther-4
American these are very sad
everything looks gray under moonlight, even my eyes, my skin I am hollowed out with grayness it coats the inside of my ribs like chalk dust I am an attic I am a cardboard box I am an elephant graveyard. you did not make me clean you crawled inside me then disintegrated into dust, to dust, to dust to dust
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
Untitled
it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** every day and every day after gets worse. every day and every day I see more and more how I was not wrong. every day and every day I see more and more how I was. it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** sometimes I see boys on the street. sometimes my eyes linger on their faces, their lips sometimes I picture their faces, their lips on mine sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's glance sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's touch it has been one year since my **** It has been one year since my **** my friends and my darlings scream out at injustice they scream at a man who did what another man did to me they say he didn't serve enough jail time my friends and my darlings don't know that the man who touched me served no jail time my friends and my darlings do not know that he walks free free to live, free to harm, free to not be haunted by the things he did to me it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** at moments I want to scream it from the rooftops at moments I want to carve it into my flesh at moments I want everyone, everyone to know how I was hurt and left bleeding, (figuratively and literally) and naked (literally and figuratively) in a cold basement of a boy I did not know at moments I want to say 'I WAS HURT (figuratively and literally) AND I AM IN PAIN (literally and figuratively) AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HEAL' these moments pass it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** every day and every day it gets better. every day and every day it gets worse. every day and every day I drag my hurt behind me like an anvil on a string every day and every day and every day after that. it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my ****
0
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
Untitled
it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** every day and every day after gets worse. every day and every day I see more and more how I was not wrong. every day and every day I see more and more how I was. it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** sometimes I see boys on the street. sometimes my eyes linger on their faces, their lips sometimes I picture their faces, their lips on mine sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's glance sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's touch it has been one year since my **** It has been one year since my **** my friends and my darlings scream out at injustice they scream at a man who did what another man did to me they say he didn't serve enough jail time my friends and my darlings don't know that the man who touched me served no jail time my friends and my darlings do not know that he walks free free to live, free to harm, free to not be haunted by the things he did to me it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** at moments I want to scream it from the rooftops at moments I want to carve it into my flesh at moments I want everyone, everyone to know how I was hurt and left bleeding, (figuratively and literally) and naked (literally and figuratively) in a cold basement of a boy I did not know at moments I want to say 'I WAS HURT (figuratively and literally) AND I AM IN PAIN (literally and figuratively) AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HEAL' these moments pass it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my **** every day and every day it gets better. every day and every day it gets worse. every day and every day I drag my hurt behind me like an anvil on a string every day and every day and every day after that. it has been one year since my **** it has been one year since my ****
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38
it was summer june, maybe july, I'm not sure but it was raining and we were sitting in the parking lot of my favorite bookstore you were behind the wheel of your truck, the seat just a little leaned back and my head was in your lap and your hand was in my hair. I had bought Ariel, you had bought Spoon River Anthology, you said you wanted to get into poetry. and you read it to me, the gentle waves of your voice syncopating with the steady beat of rain outside, and they made a music that made my breath catch in my throat the windows fogged I pulled the book out of your hands and tossed it in the backseat, so I could kiss you and feel your heartbeat in my ears you smelled like sweat and salt and sunshine, you smelled like summer and I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
12:36 AM
Y e w S Oo tH O y E GR A U e tDay R s R Een E
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
I AM FALLING APART
they said summer would be better they said they said they said they said in spring i was born again, just like they said they said they said they said I thought after winter I would never feel again, but his hands and his tongue, his lips oh my. don't let me go, let me rest in your lap for eternity. let me hold your cheeks to my heart and be alive. I love you, I think I'm not sure but you may, you may save me yet
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
the song of the trumpeter boy
I am just a little creature made of bone as black as blood I sit inside the sunshine's shadow my flesh a rotten heap of mud I pick apart the thoughts of others, the thoughts of friends, the thoughts of mothers, I weave them in a little quilt of screaming pain in brilliant colors I am just little ghost my words are weak, my mind is lost I pitter-patter through the hall, my stocking feet are fat and dull you'll see me here, though I hide well crawling through my little hell and if you smile, then I won't see I'm busy with destroying me
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:00 PM UTC
I am just a little creature
All I wanted was to see the bears They're stuck behind glass, we're stuck behind glass I fill my empty chest With the smoke of a cigarette Let it wither my crooked heart Name me after the cliffs We're both made of stone We face the devil alone So if you find me At the bottom of the sea And my lungs are filled with water Know that you didn't have to love me And I'm sorry
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
Aleut Sonnet
We bump Did he look? He didn't. He must have. Check his eyes Is he staring? Why not? Why would he? His lips are chapped Mine are not Is he looking? Did he notice? They're so warm They're so lonely Does he care? Is he watching? Tell a joke Is he laughing? He is! He's laughing! And we bump Did he like it? Did he linger? Did he blush? He didn't. He must have. Why not? Why would he?
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:00 PM UTC
And we bump
And you're a tremor through the nerves of my body And you're an echo in the grooves of my brain And every color turns grey under moonlight And every breath I take is laced with the pain They attack me when I close my eyes Attach their membranes to the fuses in my ribs I host the terrors in my heart like a lavish hotel, But they rip me apart all the same
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
Nightpains
1. The Bear It's a castle of unhappy livestock Groaning and grueling, they march to their death camps Eight times a day Lime tile littered with the waste of human embarrassment We are animals here, we have no shame I was drunk in September His tongue danced on my neck Left a mark like a raspberry flame I hope he never kisses me again 2. The Fire It's October now I ache, still, It echoes in the hollow pockets of my skull Ringing back again, over and over Time drops dead He misspells his words I can't get enough He wraps his lips around my name Like a package, Doesn't say how it tastes 3. The Earth He isn't, shouldn't, wasn't, couldn't. He's logic, he's science But I wanted thunder Shallow pools, blue and cold collect in his eyes I can see my reflection It's ugly He says happy birthday Four minutes past midnight
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
Poem for a Birthday