(I suppose I am so fond of parathesis,
because I, too, only exist as an afterthought)

TW: Self-harm
•••
I’ve never looked as good in diamonds
as I have in red. Blood:

a string of pearls around my wrist.
Crimson lace—garter caressing thigh.

Diamonds don’t shine in sorrow
the way steel does.

ADHD forgets to feed the fish
and when she finally remembers,
it is dead at the bottom of the tank.

Well, I suppose dead is an understatement:

a mossy film embalms the body
(at least what is left of it)
its suction-cup maw putrefied
as it suckles the sickle of death.

Half of the body is there.

Half of it has disintegrated.

Imagine existing nowhere and everywhere
all at once; microscopic remnants
defile every particle of water long after
the rest of you has vanished.

Can beauty exist in the aftermath of sorrow?

I spend my days educating Lilith
And feeling proud about it
You see, my love
There are reasons to love humanity
And we are all just the tears of the world.

My scars run deep.
Memories of pain etched
Where the metal kisses skin.
Even though the pain
Doesn’t seep,
The guilt flows heavy
With the red waves
And shame wraps it’s arms
Around me like a blanket
As I stand gripping the scissors
Willing the world to just
Stop