swamp green and the sky
is fire's crimson
leaves and vines curving
wrap the wall, shutters
to know that my skin, my
blood can warm the beast
trembling in my arms
if only you would let me
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 7:36 AM UTC
today,
my daddy told me i'd never be enough.
my chest opened up.
to know it is one thing, to hear it -
i am careless,
and i do what i can to hear it.
to let it trap me in the wallpaper
and the floorboards.
i will never move.
dear lord,
everything is too much,
not enough.
how can one be so full of desire.
how can one be so devoid of want.
my chest opened up -
that hole grows.
it never heals. scar tissue on
words but all it is
is emptiness.
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 9:46 PM UTC
isn't everything an island? isn't everything
lapped by tides at its very edges no matter
how far apart those edges are?
you learn to cope. uprooted and alive, maybe,
you learn. land is land. water is rivers, lakes,
and seas, still. the stars are the same.
(until they aren't. until one side is hidden from you.
have you been lying to yourself? for the sake of
comfort? did it work?)
it's still easier to make anywhere home when
home is no longer anywhere you can reach.
(but foreign lands are foreign lands.)
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
you are a silhouette cut-out.
if only i could fit into you.
out of proportion?
parts; poking and cratering
across my body to make
this mismatch of flesh.
am i god's leftovers?
or is that too divine?
i'm what everyone else
simply left behind.
i thought my heart
too big, too full, too red,
but the dark side of it,
is horror, near-dead.
disproportionate - yes.
in the physical, emotional,
metaphorical sense.
i am an uneven hill surface.
cannot complain when no one
bothers to clamour across it
to see the dark side of the moon.
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 7:15 PM UTC
every grudge sitting neat,
legs crossed and waiting
patiently/impatiently
on the tip of my burned tongue.
only, it has reached a point
in time and two decades and
two years; i am waiting for it
to be cut out.
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
gullible enough -
blood passed cold trembling fingers
and a sob caught in the throat,
gone at the sound of your voice
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
skin wide open and splayed in breadth and blood -
one never thought our skin could be so bright and
that blood would be so red, bone so white.
tears no longer nothing but heavy weights under the eyes -
their cheeks droop under it and bruise ugly and colourful.
the light's reflections are jealous. the rainbow dissolved.
no words to describe them except for what they are.
flesh and guts are human and animal and earth.
that's the grand scheme of every thing.
a drop in the ground and the snow parts like the sea -
is this a shift in colour or is it the sun behind the horizon?
god when you need him often shakes his head no.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
two years after the fact,
i realised i had fallen in love.
and that was two years too late,
as i struggled to process what 'love' was.
i confused it with envy, anger, jealousy,
and by the time i figured out it shouldn't be,
i let it consume me, until it had become nothing
but a strangled, choked, ****** sob.
it became me; something ugly.
not like you, nothing like you - don't come any closer.
let me lock it away and let it wither,
for i can't bring myself to smash it to bits.
but instead, i think it's growing larger.
god - i just can't let it starve.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
i swear there's ice in my veins
but the blood is coming out thin
and red. definitely red. a rose-red.
doesn't smell like a rose.
i've never felt colder than now;
now, with the hottest red blood
running down my skin.
it's red and hot like nothing else;
fire doesn't compare to the shivering comfort
and horror of blood on mortal flesh.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
i'm aching with years worth of words
stowed away
i haven't been honest in a long time
don't know if i ever will be again
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC