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Apr 2020 · 218
touch.
Celeste Wallis Apr 2020
contort your stature.

avert your eyes.

love with your smile
but
not with your mouth.

teeter on bedframes

for lack of restraint.

hold yourself, dear
&
say no names.

touch

fine lines

but only dream.




dream of pressure

on your spine
&
cold hands

anywhere.

press lips

on broken bones
&
beg for attention.

clean your mouth out
&
don't speak.

nails to sheets

for you

wander
not
stray

reflect upon

lungs heaving

heavy

as

sin
&
untouchable.
Jan 2019 · 285
The Funeral
Celeste Wallis Jan 2019
You've stolen the breath from my body

As if I was more that just a corpse to begin with

But I still fight

I will rise from this grave
&
Bury my demons in my place

At least for tonight they will stay silent

At least until the moon sets over a grave I will eventually be forced back into
&
My demons walk amongst the living once more

I hear their cries in the break of morning

I run to you as they hunt me

Seeking shelter
&
A certain comfort only family can provide

As the world outside crumbles with chaos
&
The monsters that were once mine get closer

I notice a strange familiarity to their return

A sort of tragic comfort

The same way I always felt around you

In this realization,

I set the house on fire with emotion
&
Trap myself in this home

I have no way of escape

So I let them drag me back under

To a place where I belong

They bury me alive
&
Instead of helping me fight my demons,

You were trying to put out the flames on a house that had already crumbled
&
In all this destruction,

It seems you were the only one who survived.
Dec 2015 · 1.5k
Slits
Celeste Wallis Dec 2015
I remember the day you came into school with fresh slits on your wrists

You had written your world into your own flesh and skin.

Those lines created the pages by which I used to write down our story.

Those cuts displayed every flaw our relationship ever endured.


And I will always remember the day you kissed me

Telling me, begging me not to worry about you.

Telling me the drawings of blood were "nothing"

Telling me you loved me.


To this day, I am left overflowing with questions.

Did it hurt?

Did it make you feel free?

Did it make you feel alive?

Did it make you feel?

But more than anything, I want to know why you chose me.



And my god, I wish this was some poetic analogy for something beautifully tragic.

I wish this was some secret I was too afraid to utter.

But it's not.

And I wish that I had never seen such a horrific sight

Because those scars were not beautiful to me.

They weren't something to be romanticized

They weren't something to be loved.

Because every inch of your punctured skin was a nightmare for me.

I relive that moment every day of my life.

That image forever trapped within the confines of my skull.


And I will always remember the day you left me.

Again and again we fell together.

I held my pain in so deep it created canyons in the breaks on my heart.

But you.

You wore your pain like a badge of honor

You paraded your scars like they were trophies

But they were more than that.

They were a scare tactic that was suffocating me

A plot to force out every ounce of my love for you

A way to blackmail me into staying with you.




And my god I loved you.

And I could have loved you until the day I died.





But I couldn't see past it.

I Couldn't see past the traumatic illustration set before me

past the illustration that stopped my heart beating in my chest.



And I will never forget the day you walked up to me and showed me a display

Of my initials carved into the skin of your forearm.
Trigger Warnings: Suicide, Depression, Self harm.

— The End —