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Anna Skinner Feb 2017
heartbreak brings out the best in me
eloquent words bleeding onto crumbled pages
lost from the light

the majority of my veins
is weighed down by red wine
violet-stained lips like i've been
******* blood
give us this day our daily bread
instead, i've been ******* souls
from those
i love

forgive me, father, for i have sinned
buried among too many sheets
intoxication boiling just beneath the surface
making friends with all my scars

i really need to stop giving excuses for you
your righteousness carving silver secrets
into the plains of my hips
let me shed my secret
ripe skin stretched taut against bone
bleeds the easiest
hurts the most

at least i have something to remember you by
defensive wounds meant for your heart
flaying myself for your wrongdoings

i see in lilac sunsets
eternally it is i who stands the sinner
as the sun of the day plunges me into
the familiar ache of moonlight
i repent
punish myself
12 silver, sacred Hail Mary's
shedding blood as a
sacrificial apology
and a new day starts, an indigo dawn
but i don't have enough blood
for the both of us
freestylin' it
Anna Skinner Feb 2017
a ceremonial silence fills the space next to me,
the exact width of your chest
a spectrum of sweat-stained sheets
and thick air
a heavy fan thrumming --
it can't replace the lack of breath sounds.

blast the hot water,
let the droplets sear my skin
marking countless valleys where your fingers should be
instead, i'm covered in minor burns,
heart chock-full of sadness

i search for you, but all i get is
a ceremonial silence
and a ****** fan
Anna Skinner Jan 2017
give me your sorrow, I'll turn it to stone
give me your scars, I'll turn them to stories

scald me with your molten steel sadness and
watch art bloom from your suffering

erase silver scratch thoughts and
drift away to the scrawl of my pen

watch your pain tattoo these lines, scalding my veins
and spilling onto these pages
Anna Skinner Mar 2016
How do I tell you*
I love the way three dollar wine tastes,
a cheap buzz lighting up my veins,
merlot dripping tears on the floor
I sought for comfort last night.

How do I tell you
That silver is the sweetest color,
singing songs into flesh as I drag her
through scar ridden skin,
opening rivers and avenues
I could be an architect with the way I construct,
drawing with permanent marker on
scribbled, blood stained satin

How do I tell you
I break off pieces of myself,
store them in my broken heart bank,
savor memories for later, when ripped
liquid velvet
doesn't leak onto my fresh floor
anymore

How do I tell you
I curse your nightly name,
thick tongue tasting the
stale sangria of your lips

How do I tell you
How do I tell you
*How do I tell you
Anna Skinner Feb 2016
shadows collapse
     at dusk
silent lightening,
     an unknown storm

her heart a bitter white moon,
     and unseen spirit
crows murmur in darkness,
     leaving tell-tale secrets

she shivers
     at midnight
I watch from the cemetery,
     spirits lost in night,
yearning to cup
     her aching bones
Anna Skinner Jan 2016
Tile walled tear drops
And shower suicide thoughts
The humidity makes it
Hard to breathe
Or maybe that's sadness
And her hard hands slowly
Claiming me as her own
Again.
A lone soul has never felt
This suffocating
Anna Skinner Dec 2015
Country never felt like home to me.
Kansas open road stretches –
for forever, these empty badlands,
and you screaming next to me out an open patch
of freedom
through the blocked air of my sunroof,
letting your soul run free in the gun slate
of the elastic sky.
Acidic gas station coffee lingers on your lips,
a stained kiss for the magnetic sunset,
while Colorado mountains crest the distant horizon.
Country never felt like home to me,
before roads, before skyscrapers,
before my love of the city,
there was just land, just these mountains.
Country never felt like home to me.
Maybe that’s why I feel so free.
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