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Vale Luna Aug 2020
There is a dead girl in the mirror
She breathes rapidly,
Her heartbeat vibrates her body,
Palpitating whenever she stands
Skin stretches thinly over her ribs
        darkens under her eyes
        turns grey on her legs

She scowls at the pinch of fat on her belly
Preferring to be scolded,
But knowing it will only leave her more
    shortwinded - lightheaded

She understands she is dead,
Counting the months before her collapse
Only hoping to see herself become a skeleton
Before they put her in the ground.
Anorexia ***** fyi.
Vale Luna Aug 2020
Time runs faster
When it’s running out
Numbers sprinting towards the end
Only to be faced
With a brick wall
There’s no finish line ahead

There’s no winning
No participation trophy
Just the inevitability of death
Time speeding up still
Pronounced by the chimes
Of the clock your head

Will you make your life’s conclusion
As worthwhile as it’s intro?
Memento mori,
Hurry, my friend
Your time will soon reach zero.
* Latin for “Remember Death”
Vale Luna Jul 2020
I have always been
too aware of the moon

Weeping because we will never
be closer together
Worshipping the ground
her light walks on
Worrying that her crescent’s point
will stab me in the back

I have never been
good with relationships.
Just got a new diagnosis a few days ago,,,,,,
think I'll make a series
Vale Luna Jul 2020
What am I supposed to do
with the thoughts inside my head
if not to speak them?
But who do I have
to speak them to?
(I wonder)
Who do I have to talk to but myself?
So my mind thinks the words
            and speaks the words
                    and hears the words
and thinks the words
            and speaks the words
                    and hears the words
and thinks the words
            and speaks the words
                    and hears the words
And over,
        and over,
              and over...
Until the words
don't sound like words anymore.
Vale Luna Mar 2020
I can speak in silence
If you can hear in grey and blue
The mountain slopes we met on
Flattened by your point of view
You sawed-off both my wings
But I, a chicken, anever flew
As if planting us in gravel
Would soften the way we grew.

How apt that we were as in sync
As a sonnet that is rhymeless
We had a lack of chemistry
Boiled down into a science
And I knew you had intentions
To countdown for what was timeless
Because you hear in grey and blue
As well as I can speak in silence.
Vale Luna Feb 2020
I had a dream that I shot myself in the head
I collapsed in the driveway
And stared straight ahead
With tangible astonishment
Or palpable dread
Is this what it’s like to be dead?
I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead
Why am I still thinking? I’m dead.


I imagined everyone before me who’s died
And questioned if their brains
Also raced beyond the grave
If being buried dead was no different
Than being buried alive
But before I made up my mind
I awoke in a hospital bed
Breathing and thinking -- not at all dead

I reached up and touched the hole in my head
Rethinking the seconds I thought I had died
I cried, I cried, I cried
“Why did this happen to me?” I cried.
Not because of my actions
But because I had survived.
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