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fox 3d
WHEN I CUPPED YOUR FACE AND SPILLED INTO YOU
YOU SAID I TASTED EXACTLY AS YOU THOUGHT I WOULD
I ASKED WHAT YOU THOUGHT DIVINITY MIGHT BE
YOU REPLIED LIKE FLESH BETWEEN YOUR TEETH
AND BLOOD SPILLING DOWN YOUR CHIN
GOD EXISTS BETWEEN THE CLAVICLES AND THE SCAPULA
OLDER BROTHERS ARE MADE ONLY TO FULFILL THE STRANGE APPETITE OF A YOUNGER SISTER
SOMEWHERE IN A PLACE THAT DOES NOT CONCERN YOU
A COLLARED DOG BITES UNTIL IT BLEEDS
YOU MIGHT WONDER IF IT'S A RITUAL
I'D CALL IT CONSUMPTION
those are one and the same
fox Apr 19
you keep me on a tight leash
2 shots to the heart and 1 for the head
you only really needed one
fox Apr 19
you know, god doesn't love people like us.

that's fine, because happiness has to be fought for. i don't like god anyway. can't hold anyone else higher than you.

me neither. i think you complete me. only you and i will know our bodies before the chrysalis. the intimacy of a secret only we are privy to. a journey we undertake hand in hand.

we were made for each other, then. i'd kiss you in every universe. i hope i dream of us together every night that we're apart.
somewhat edited transcript of a conversation between myself and my girlfriend
fox Nov 2024
ambition is an apparition of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life. she does not text you back. sometimes you see her in the mirror. in your braided hair.

wounds are soft pink after the heat of steam and a night's sleep. this is the same shade you see in the flowers that grow outside your bedroom window. the warm flush of life.

your soft underbelly is milky white, your face is tan with sun, and you search for whitening creams in a korean grocery store near your house. freckles line the the horizon like stars you drew on her face.

dostoyevsky says that a man must work to be worthy of his own suffering. you don't like suffering, but you like the way blood feels on your tongue, the burn of muscles after exertion, skin being peeled back.

your body is out of your reach most of the time. helium party balloons with strings cut short. needles in your thighs. an iv in your elbow. you don't know how to inject yourself properly so it falls on your roommate.

your only friend is a razor blade, but she doesn't like you enough to reply. nights pass without you noticing because the blinds are always shut. she won't kiss your face anymore, only your arms.
fox Oct 2024
next to you i can't breathe
always a shell of a person
a ghost in the machine
gutted on the fishing hook
of your renaissance taste
pixel gore painted
on the sidewalk in pink
and lavender blue
gold thrown up by a
woodchipper stomach
tumors kissing a
washing machine heart
who's afraid of modern art?
fox Aug 2024
i sit in a vague fugue as the flies buzz through the open window
they know death is near, blood seeping through the thin cotton of a school uniform. integrals curl up into manifolds as my vision blurs
i think of a rope around the neck, a bullet through the head, a clarity
from the yellow-wallpapered fluorescent hum
an eyelid twitches, mirroring the left leg. i push my knuckles against the edge of the desk. sharp metal bites a quick counter-subject to my mental funeral march.
i pick up my pen; the lecture wriggles back into the cerebellum with silver-tipped pincers and many many legs.
to deal with constant dissociation and chronic pain i handmade a cilice to wear. it is as dostoyevsky said; i only wanted to be worthy of my own suffering.
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