the old gods here lay
in beds of clay and marble
jupiter fallen
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
I can say my ABC’s
(As long as you hum the tune)
I can pick out my own clothes
I can count to one-thous-and
I can scrape my knee
And only cry a little
Hey, look at me, riding my bike
With no extra wheels;
I can go faster than sound, faster
Than I can think, faster than
I can realize,
This isn’t a good idea
I can sit silent
I can bite my tongue until it bleeds
I can talk to much
(Or not at all)
I can go to school every day
Feeling like going too fast down a tall hill
Faster, faster than
My legs can carry my body
Sliding and
Falling
Staring at my own ****** knee--
I guess we ran out of band-aids
I can see the strings behind the system
And I can cut them, too
Veins behind bible-paper skin
I can swear to God
(Or swear at God)
I can feel the ground beneath
My feet shifting, tidal pools
From sadness to hate
My best friend says, just us against the world
And I’m not sure if I agree, but
I can always nod along.
I can be a king
For about fifty minutes on a
Tuesday morning
I can control your whole world
(Never was any good with my own)
I can find the skeletons in your closet
And the guns there, too
Hey, look at me
Front page again, promising
New insights to my
Motivations, manifesto
I can reduce your whole life
To your death
I can
I can
I can
I swear to God I can--
I can say my ABC’s
(As long as you hum the tune)
I can pick out my own clothes
I can count to one-thous-and.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 9:40 PM UTC
bird bones, dig me a
grave, make me a treasure chest
where my lungs ought to be
and hide away all your
secrets, falling overhead
leaves in the fall;
you have no idea, i tell you,
what's underfoot--
hollow earth, hollow skull.
you say,
don't smile like that.
you're making me nervous.
****** mutt, throw trash through
the television, screaming
sports fanatics. never watched
this game before. unfamiliar rules.
it's all in the uniforms, bird bones.
don't let them
freak you out, peaked blue caps
oily lips confirm:
"investigation underway."
turn that noise down.
i'll build us a house underwater
if you open the door,
don't blame me when you drown.
parka with
the hood up;
can't stay away from the trees,
even in this weather,
always outdoors, always checking,
to be sure.
don't look at me like that, bird bones.
haven't you ever seen a dead body before?
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
stuck my head
underwater
but forgot
to drown
i was sad
you were sad
but it didn't
cancel out
laid down
closed my eyes
but forgot
to sleep
and one day
you'll be happy
but not because
of me
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
i am sexually attracted to pencils.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
there's a gap between your front teeth and between
your visions and plans and reality
holes in your personality, waiting to be filled up
and i wonder
what will become of you?
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
why the **** would you
even pretend to care
after all of that?
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
when they pull up to the stop
i am the last to get on
i sit in the front, with a good view
of the street
(i know the route by heart)
turn left at ryan road and
pass the old run down convenience store
broken and unwanted, like,
a mole on a hand-model's finger,
or perhaps me;
did you know that they all wave at each other?
the bus drivers, i mean
when they pass on the road
nothing meaningful, just
a quick wave of the hand
*i see you there
doing what i'm doing
hey, buddy, why'd we pick this job
anyway?*
there's a kid behind me who always kicks my chair
and the blonde girl on my left
glares at me from above
a paper-back romance novel
i try to smile, but
i don't think she wants to be my friend
(she laughed at me last year
from across the plastic cafeteria floor
and called me a witch
if i recall correctly)
when we pull up to the school
i pull out my phone
and pretend to be texting
(i don't even have a plan;
the phone's for music)
so that they all get out before me;
once i pushed ahead of a boy
in a snapback and sweatpants
and i think that's just about the bravest thing
someone from the front of the school bus
has ever done.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
I wish
I wasn't
Here
At all
I wish
I'd learned
To stop
The fall
The inevitable
Sinking
Loss
Of hope
All my friends
In the bathroom
Smoking
Coke
The party's over
Please,
Go home
We're all
Much nicer
When we're not
Alone
The kids
I used to
Know
have cut
Their wrists
Their make up
Smearing
On their
Lips;
I cannot
Regret
What you
Have done
The cake's
Been eaten
But the song's
Unsung
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Let's talk about suicide.
Nasty word-
Isn't it?
So gross
But I feel it controlling me
And pushing the blood through my veins
We hate to talk about it
When it happens,
We speak of it only
Over cups of coffee
A muttered secret to a close friend
Words spilling out of our mouths like ****
So.
Gross.
So gross, in fact
That when I was twelve years old
And took the amount of pills I thought necessary to end a life
I couldn't bring myself to tell my mother to take me to the hospital
And instead lay awake
Terrified of what was going to happen
Until I went upstairs
Shoved a toothbrush down my throat
And spewed ***** that tasted of tylenol extra-strength
Of hopes gone and lost
Of secrets never to be told
Of a little girl scared of what was going to come next.
My mom never found out
Because it was
So.
Gross.
And even now
Years later
When I'm walking down a flight of stairs
Steep enough to snap a neck
I have to pause
And say to myself
"No, Diana. Not today.
You still have things to do."
And sometimes, it's really hard
Because I don't have anything left to do
I'm tired and sick and fat and useless
And I wish I wasn't here
I have no friends no family
Nothing left to speak of
Just a numb throbbing in my head
When it's really bad, I ask myself what would happen if I had died that day
The answer scares me.
So.
Gross.
Is that gross?
Yes, it's repulsive, I agree.
But you know what?
I lived. I'm still here, even if I don't want to be
And I still wake up and get dressed
I still cover my scars with jewelry and makeup
I still hold the pills in my hand
And stand at the stairs and say
"Not today, Diana.
You still have things to do."
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC