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Cora Mar 2020
i wondered when i was a little kid
where do all the shadows go
in the winter?
the shadows dance at night
Cora Mar 2020
i wonder what i’d say
or if I’d say anything at all

i don't know if i'd have enough strength to swallow the rocks in my throat, or pick my heart up from the floor, or shove air back into my lungs, or wipe away the sweat in my eyes, or fasten my knees back into place

If I ever see you again
please don't ever come back
Cora Mar 2020
i guess i always wondered
starting at the age of seven
why it was so easy to cry
but
so hard
to
breathe
"take a breath" is harder than you think
Cora Mar 2020
feels like knives in my mouth
needles through my tongue
like when i got it pierced, and my father ripped it out
because he didn’t approve

i have a headache from biting down too hard
my teeth hugging each other
in this sad attempt to feel whole
even though bits and pieces of their body
fall into the black void of my stomach
where all things sick must stay
hidden within

and the inside of my cheek is bleeding
the watered-down red spill into my words
making the clean ones *****
i have to choose my next words wisely
i wouldn’t want to overstep my over blurred boundaries

there are crescent moons in the palms of my hands
they tell me it’s going to be okay either way
little smiles ready to remind me after it’s done
that my chest will remain standing
heart intact, lungs inhaling

i have to remind my legs to keep on standing
because as your eyes look into mine
i feel like I am the only thing you’ve ever seen
and I mean that in the worst possible way

your stare feels like shame on my skin
little burns on my neck and cheek and lips
all the places you’ve kissed before

all the places you’ve touched before
held before
gazed upon like they were fine art before
none of the words
none of those things I said before
matter anymore

because when I told you I loved you
your ‘I love you, too’ sounded
a lot like silence
i wish i could take back my feelings, say i didn't mean it that way
Cora Mar 2020
take
me
out
of
my skin
my skin is just a lovely prison
Cora Mar 2020
i woke up.
curiosity, excitement, and dread
boiled together in my head.

dusted angels dance in the sunlight.
but here, it was a hope for night
because this love, and this fright, it’s not quite right.

my mind is supposed to be quiet.
that voice, I’m not supposed to fight it.

i was drowning in a sea storm,
so what am I breathing for?

i was slipping under the clouds,
my emotions holding me down.

the sun is so dark,
and my night had no stars.
my dreams were black tar and used cigars;

just a dead end.
i've spent what there is left to spend.
there's too many splinters to mend.
i’m so broken and bent,

i can't

breathe most of the time.
my own identity wasn't mine.
it was just faceless and unkind.
all I wanted was to die.

i was so lost.
my glass heart covered in frost.
of my life, what was the cost?

a tiny jar
with white pebble art.
it wasn't too far,
and most of all, it wasn't too hard.

and then to sleep,
i prayed the lord my soul to keep.

and sleep was

reckless,
pointless,
dreamless, and seamless,
but deathless.

and so in the day
i woke up,
nonetheless.
i hope you always wake up
Cora Mar 2020
why did i trust you enough
to let you see me bleed?
we bleed for monsters who look a lot like saints.

— The End —