my bedroom/airports/empty reception rooms/anywhere at 2 am
vacant parking lots
hospitals at midnight
museum waiting lines in the early morning
schools during break
late night supermarket runs
waiting for the bus at 5 am
walking down the cobblestone streets at 6 am
gas stations at dawn
unfamiliar McDonalds on long road trips
their buzzing electricity is my alternate reality. stretching across my view with reckless abandon.
day 20 - liminal spaces
i **** on the patch of swollen purple on my thigh
pick the scabs my wounds formed
and dance around the beast's smoke
sometimes, i scream at him
tell him to leave
but he always screams louder
i need to bury him anyway
enfold him in the land of past selves and bad habits
and when i do
the light will pour in
as my heart grows golden roots
and the choir sings a chorus of release
while my body sways along
why, oh why
do you rebel against me?
for i heal every last one of your cuts and bruises
without asking for your permission;
why, oh why
do you punish me?
for i stick by your side
in spite of all the abuse you put me through;
on the days you do not want me,
(call me "vile" and "atrocious")
and on the days that you do
(call me "magnificent" and "divine") —
i will turn your bones into kindling
and run your cracks into lacquered gold
i will always be here
to keep you breathing
day 17: if my body could speak:
prompt: body as a friend (or foe?)
the boy with tousled black hair met my gaze and cocked his head to the side. "come here", he mouthed with a grin that allowed his fangs, sharp and glinting, to come into view. they were like diamonds and i was a lapidary, fueled to engrave him into my memory. the other boy beside him was too busy placing kisses all over his pale neck to notice i had moved closer. eventually, he stopped. his silver eyes flashed into mine, and his lips barked a kind of laughter that brought a slick of sweat to my palms. "Claudius, who is this?"
Claudius stood up, his voice mocking. "our appetizer."
the urge to run kicked me to the stomach, but my feet couldn't sprint quick enough.
he pierced his fangs into my neck, and i drifted.
day 16 - any dreams?
wrote a short story (not a poem!) based off a dream i had two nights ago.
the hazy moon dipped into silver
the glinting stars sank into gold,
and it was as if you were plucked from the pool of darkness
and plunged into the face of the earth
the constellations on your celestial body
the supernova glow of your being
is the starlight everyone needs
day 13 - celestial bodies
this one is dedicated to my baby niece.
the secrets you want to keep veiled
the words you wish you had said
are hidden away in junk drawers, dusty cupboards, bulging closets
tell them that is safe here
tell them to step into the bright sun
tell them of the sanctuary that is a lover's gentle fold
we await them
day 12 - Spring Cleaning
every star in the night sky
wishes to kiss me in gold dust
every rough body of ocean
wishes to wash over me in healing salt
every rose bush, blooming or wilting
wishes for me to tend to their roots
my hands do not falter,
for my golden heart
never runs out of gleaming currency
my voice cuts through the silence,
the dagger in my hand is sheathed
in a white dress and red lipstick
my home, a well-built powerhouse
stands on dark rocks,
overlooking an indigo sea at twilight.
11: Every goddess. (prompt: not from your perspective)
This is written in my mother's perspective