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Darcy Jan 2019
I am sinking to
Where the moon drips
From frosted lips, frothing with
Syrupy sweet lies
One sticky spoonful at a time
Darcy Aug 2018
My brain is a graveyard
Where cobwebs collect
Through gyri and sulci
The harvestmen tread

The widows float down
Painted black and red
Armed with venom
And needle and thread

They sing as they spin
A chanty of doubt
Stuffing my skull
Til ghosts leak out

And when they have
All had their say
And my spine grows centipede legs
And crawls away

I sink sink sink
Into the ground
And even the arachnids
Cannot draw me out.
Darcy Aug 2018
Yellow lit talks
Beside a borrowed car
Empty parking lot
Underneath the stars

Three feet apart
We mindlessly converse
About nothing and everything
Prolix and terse

You render me breathless
My ghost lungs deflate
You exhale the stars
And I respirate

I am so tense
With minutes too swift
Too late; you’re gone
My hands must have slipped
Darcy Aug 2018
Once upon a time
There was a mouse
Who pretended to be a
Real Girl
And she dressed herself up
And hid her whiskers behind
Jewelry and rouge
And porcelain powder
And she scurried away
When the cats got too close

She decorated her hole
In the wall
With rose petals and baby pink
And she kissed boys
And pretended they did not
Notice the fur

But she began to wither
Her little rodent bones
Rattling beneath
A shrinking skin bag
Her fur fell out
And the diamonds were too big
For her pink ears

She spun marathons
On a glass wheel
Always running towards something
Never finding

She got so small
That those boy’s hands
No longer had anything
To hold onto
And suddenly
They did not want to
Talk to her
And her rose filled nest in the wall
Became a
Black hole of guilt

And it ****** her
Up up up

And no one noticed
When she did not crawl back out.
Darcy Aug 2018
Oh, you sorry fool
You've cut your fingers
Plucking on heartstrings again.
When will you learn?
Souls like his
Were not meant for
Souls like yours.
He will live his whole entire life
And not once
Think twice about the color of your eyes.
Darcy Jun 2018
“I am tired,”
I say

You ask if I was up late
Last night

And instead of telling you about
My hypocretin levels I nod
And laugh and say
“Something like that.”

“What, are you tired?”
My coach asks

He thinks he is
Trying to motivate me
But he does not know
That my very existence is
Bone crushingly exhausting
And yes,
I am tired
But I wouldn’t expect him
To understand
So I say nothing

When I say I have narcolepsy
And you say
“Must be nice, being able
To fall asleep anywhere,”
I have never related
To Ted Bundy more in
My entire life

You suggest I stop
Drinking coffee

I suggest you stop breathing

Teachers talk about the
Impact of sleep on
Mental health and
I think
Maybe that’s why
I’m always depressed

My doctor suggests I stop
Drinking coffee too
I am a little worried now

I google
“Caffeine related heart attacks
In teens”

My findings are not enough to
Convince me and besides,
A hospital visit
Is just an opportune moment
For a nap
Darcy May 2018
Grabbing fat that isn’t there,
Dulling eyes
And thinning hair

Peeling skin and bones that ache
Drying mouth
And “bathroom breaks”

Waking up to stomach rumbles
Stagnant breath
And steps that tumble

Dreams of food and calories
Diet pills
And longer sleeves

Endless nights and skin that chills
Never eating
To feed what kills

Being skinny has the price
Of six feet down
And three feet wide
I wrote this when I was 12
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