there is a song inside of my chest it
begs to be born from my naked breast
it comes to me in lullabies and keeps me from rest i find the goddess of earth in my dreams
a quest of solitude that only the soil can give me i feel
unraveled at the spine and
crave the blessing of death not for
the fear of life but merely the romance of the unknown
i speak words of love to all who
cross me i whisper intimacy
to my familiars all those whom are
dear to me are my soulmates
i was made
to love to be crucified
for sharing my body
*** is a gift
my body is communion
my divinity comes at the expense
of knowing myself
the sacred earth whispers to me words of mourning i cry for its
plants
body
and sacristy
and share myself to sacrifice
for the land which built me
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 4:06 PM UTC
i leave behind residue in beds
i am grimy and saturated from dirt
my muddy footsteps follow you into the bathroom and i smudge the mirror with my fingers, crusted and cracked from the heat
i follow the shadow of the sun and trail their streaks of death
it drips down my thighs and stains your carpets
i am vermin i am disease i am death and decay
my stench sullies the walls and my greasy hair sours your stomach
you pinch your nose as i pass by and i cannot find it in me to blame you. i would too.
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 3:14 AM UTC
to think that your first hard grip on my wrist wouldn't be the last
to think that i don't know what love should taste like
to think that your yells were out of care
to think that my hurt felt like home.
my home was hurt because you supplied it
your voice brought me back down to the earth
the bitter taste at the tip of my tongue was a gift from you
your hands a reminder of where exactly I belonged
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 11:11 PM UTC
I saw your eyes for the first time in a year
and for once my heart did not stutter
yet I returned home and washed the sheets
merely to rid myself of clutter.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 11:05 PM UTC
1. you are seventeen and he is younger but so much bigger. you feel like a doll in his palm. you are unaware that his hands between your legs is a contract. He lays you down on your back, and you turn your heard to the TV. Moana is playing.
2. he pulls you to his chest and you whisper, "promise me I won't regret it." he smiles and kisses your forehead. the next day, he tells you he doesn't know if he loves you or not. you regret it.
3. you are almost asleep and his hands keep wandering. you close your eyes tighter. you wish you were dead.
4. he tells you that you don't have to do it if you don't want to, but you know that it's the only way to keep him from leaving. Afterwards, he wipes the tears from your chin and holds you close to his heart, so gentle and soft. you almost feel at home.
5. he leaves. You have to begin picking up the pieces somewhere but you never really find out where to start. a year passes. It has been twelve months of rain but the sun begins to peak out behind its curtain of clouds. you rest.
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 2:52 PM UTC
i feel quite insignificant
like a small, frail, broken-winged bird
cradled in the hand of a man who does not know I am fragile
i am made of glass and ribbons which bind my feet to this wretched earth
they are chains around my beaten ankles
my sin is the floor beneath where I stand.
my wings were once whole, beautiful, unbroken things
but he held them too tightly
they crumbled in his hands
into dust
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 10:36 PM UTC
I can wash my bedsheets a thousand times and yet this bed is no longer ******* mine
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 12:06 PM UTC
i can't write anymore.
i go fishing for words in a dried up lake
and lose the thoughts at the sight of you.
you.
you envelop even the empty spaces, of course
when i can't write i think of you.
i think it's because I know it will never be as beautiful.
this will be my downfall
the thunder in my head
has struck the trees
and the leaves
fall to the ground
from its quake.
it disrupts every
******* aspect of my
life. my spine
shakes at your power,
my shoulders slump
at your warmth. your
hands have stripped every part of my
identity. you rebuild
me again. I cannot
write because your eyes
don't allow me.
your lips are
my prison and my liberation
your hand around my throat is your claim and my closure
i know you never wanted to posses my and my ***** soul
but truly i am nothing without your tightening grip
just a pet to your words your voice your body
yours.
it is all I am.
I cannot write for I am no long a being.
Just the creation of a God.
just a babydoll who listens
a girl who obeys
a child with closed eyes
is this love
or is this rebirth
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
i did not know the breath in my lungs would stop
i guess the funny part is i kind of like the burn
i like the self destruction
the pain and the wounds
i never realized the poison that seeps from my skin would get to me too
you see god had made me pure
but i dipped my hands into the liquor of the devil
and for that i had to endure
six years of pain, twelve more of self infliction
i never realized it was an addiction
but
my lungs are so ******* empty
they inhale the toxins of my past mistakes
the love and passion and trust i dropped in the mud
i inhale purity (not mine of course)
i exhale poison (it stems from my core)
always poison
always poison
i am poison
i have poisoned you
but don't worry
it'll always get to me first
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
he calls me love when he's mad
his sweetheart when he's sad
he calls me a wilting flower in the sun
a fragile broken piece of glass when we're done.
He brings me blossoms in the spring
in the fall, always nothing
in the winter he leaves my toes cold
but my heart is always a bit too bold
and in the morning it reaches out
and is left to wander home a different route.
I lay in bed, lost at night
not knowing if his love for me is right
for when the morning comes and all is light
I never miss him, or his plight.
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC