lil veggie: Favorites

Aug 2016 lil veggie

'Come Here' Motion With Your Feet Instead Of Your Fingers

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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'Come Here' Motion With Your Feet Instead Of Your Fingers

Your eyes are the color of chocolate bars. I want to see if your lids really peel like candy wrappers, but you won't let me touch you. So I fidget with my hands and think that perhaps the smell of peppermint on your breath runs all the way down your throat and into the pit of your stomach. And if I reach the pit of your stomach, I'd probably find butterflies, but they're all dead. Your body is poisonous, after all. I'm very well aware of this fact. But if clenching my stomach in crippling pain is going to keep you flowing through my bloodstream like cheap ******, then I will drink you in twice as fast. You are a better way to die than anything I can think of off the top of my head. Undress, slowly, and in the fraction of a blind moment when you can't see me as you're taking off your shirt, imagine that I am already dead. And, when my dress pools around my feet like rainwater, take satisfaction in knowing my autopsy report will place my cause of death as your silhouette in this poorly lit room. Send me to the grave covered in love bites and lay me on the bed like you're trying to lay me inside a coffin. Bury me under your weight, our bodies resting in anything but peace.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

Don't blink when you read this

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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Don't blink when you read this

The other day I thought about you, and by that I mean that I wasn't thinking much at all. I stare at the ceiling and count the cracks in it and fall asleep only to wake up to the sound of some imaginary rain hitting the roof once. I don't remember leaving my door cracked, but the wind pushed it wide open again. I imagine (I hope) I will find your arm behind the door, but for now it's just another ghost leaning on the door jamb. Your name is the first thing that comes up when I flip on every light in my house, trying to find the source of the noises I swear you're making, and your name is the last thing I can see before the bulbs go out. I'm tracing holes in the wall - holes I've created - and imagine those holes are on you and I am tracing their edges. I have to trace something these days, or the walls will fall from my knuckles fighting them too much, so I take a black pen and trace letters from my imagination and write these things down on paper, bearing down so hard that they begin to carve into the desk, so that not even the wood can forget about you.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

This was a letter but now I can't tell

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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This was a letter but now I can't tell

Please stop making me love you. And while you're at it, please stop making me like you. It's hard enough to count sheep without seeing you like a wolf, disguised as innocent but ready to skin me alive when I get close.
Now and then, I scratch at the paint on the wall by my bed and observe how easily it flakes off, and I wondered if I had spent anymore time scratching your back would your skin finally start to peel so that I could see the darkness beneath it.
Now and again I savor the feeling of my stomach bottoming out when I lose my footing while stumbling down the stairs in a halfway alternate reality that starts and ends with strands of your hair in my mouth and in between my fingers. Give me the strength to love you and I will give you my unloved dog-like devotion.
I've played my cards and I've got no more hands, but I don't mind you shuffling your deck and using my back as a poker table. Come over and talk to me sometime, and you can break my neck and talk about the weather and **** time by killing me. The stars are beginning to lose their shape and soon the sun will push them all aside and I cannot wait. I never was afraid of the dark, but I'm terrified of you.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

stop me

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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stop me

Are you sleeping well these days? I hope so because I don't sleep anymore. There is so much to think about now; there is no time to sleep anymore, because my brain has to handle you. I wish your belt was my fingers, underneath the loops of your jeans, pulling you towards me. That tie doesn't belong around your neck; it belongs around mine. Are you sleeping at all these days? I never did. I wake up when I think you might be standing by the wall, and you never are. Maybe I will open the door and find you on your knees, coughing up blood and apologies. Do not fidget every time you remember your hand doesn't have another to hold, because then it will become a habit and you will hate me. Do not bite your nails or look at ledges you have thought about jumping. They will become habits and you will hate me. Do not form habits for your fingers to develop since they have no throats to grab. You will hate me. I never want you to hate me, not in the way that you will. The time is 3:06 AM and I hope you still love me the way I want you to.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

Your Fists Are Rain And I Am A Window

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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Your Fists Are Rain And I Am A Window

Sometimes I think to myself that maybe you are actually rain and you are evaporating in the heat of the moment, when I need you the most. Those lips have eased cool words from your tongue like runoff, and your mouth has carelessly dropped beaded kisses onto my throat like a foggy window pane, and you can see through me just as easily. And after you've stormed into my room and I've felt the thunder of your fingers shaking me to the core, you still linger on me like the smell after the first spring showers. And thoughts of you precipitate in the form of acid rain, inside my head like the ***** city downpours and my brain is just a brand new Corvet left in the parking lot. You have redeemed me, refreshed me, corroded me. I can see the lightning in your eyes every time your hands are hovering over me, and now all I can do is count the seconds until I hear the thunder.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

Bless Your (Non-Existent) Soul

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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Bless Your (Non-Existent) Soul

I was praying that there was more to time than numbers on a clock. I was hoping that throwing coins into a well was not all that fate left us to tamper with and that maybe I could throw them into your mouth instead. How you've managed to shackle my feet with words alone, smooth as silk bindings, I will never understand. But those words are leaving red marks on my bones and I'm beginning to have the urge to gnaw at them. I have heard the clocks tick in disapproval at the hours we spend staring at the walls instead of at each other, and the sound of your foot bouncing against the floor is all to similar to the sounds of my fist tapping the wall, contemplating if it's worth putting a whole in it, around the size of the hole you put in my heart. The numbers on the clock is all that we have, so we have to make it count, so let's stop counting down the minutes until we're over and start counting down the seconds until we begin.

b.b.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

Don't Trust Boys With Sleepy Eyes

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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Don't Trust Boys With Sleepy Eyes

Blow smoke rings the size of my neck and make me feel just as insignificant. My collarbones don't dissipate into the air when you touch them but I wish that I could sublimate when your fingers are barely touching my skin and gliding up. I shouldn't trust you as far as I can throw you, but I just want to throw myself against you and collide your mouth against mine as though our lips were two raindrops on the window crashing towards each other with no stopping, both thinking "oh my god oh my god oh my god" before we morph into one.
I am so used to feeling like garbage, so for once, pretend like the beads of sweat on my neck are diamonds and tell me I'm your precious stone and don't let this sapphire night escape us without drawing ruby drops of blood from my tongue.
There are some things my mother never told me, like "always make sure that the boy you meet is actually alive, and not just an empty puppet being pulled by the heart strings" and "never trust a boy with sleepy eyes", but it's always good to know these things ahead of time because one day he will have your heart in his hands and won't have anything for you and one day you will realize that he's always tired because he spends all of his time thinking about someone that isn't you. And knowing what I know now compared to what I knew then makes me wish I never ached to squirm under your hands and makes me regret every moment I spent longing to fill very space between your fingers because now I can't stop writing about it.
Do you know about the garden of dead boys? It can be found in the place where the roses die. There is a "keep out" sign designed to not seem so until it's too late. Until then, it appears to say "I love you" and you will wander in. But if you find yourself asking him "where have you been all my life", that's the time to run while you can because maybe he never actually existed.
-b.b.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

This Is What It Feels Like To

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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This Is What It Feels Like To

I press the scalding hot washcloth against my face while it's still soaking wet and inhale. This is what it feels like to drown. I think about your eyes, how they are so dark, like solar eclipses and I think about how your nails leave crescent moons in my heart. This is what it feels like to fear. In a dream, your weight is resting on my neck and you tell me to tell you that I love you, but the minute I open my mouth, my throat is filled with butterflies and my trachea snaps. This is what it feels like to love. I take off my black lacquer polish and I can't hide the blood under my fingernails anymore. This is what it feels like to know. Your mouth touches my face again and again and I cannot break away to take a breath and I am overtaken by the sweetest darkness. This is what it feels like to die. This is what it feels like to drown. I am drowning drowning drowning drowning drowning drowning dro

Aug 2016 lil veggie

I Wrote This And You Won't Read It

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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I Wrote This And You Won't Read It

Darling, I am not here to write about your eyes and the stars in them. I tried to count too many times and I got too lost in the dreams imbedded in your corneas. I'm not here to talk about how the sun only rises because you give it a reason to, because it still sets every evening so it doesn't have to hear your steady breathing while you sleep. I'm here to tell you about how you have words that cut me like a saw cuts bone and how my ribs are held together with cheap twine and my spine is duct taped together. Here to say that you make my heart race at a pace that my body cannot keep up with. I didn't come to tell you that the tides are kissing the shore every time you laugh, because that's not what your laugh is like. No, if the rusting of iron made a sound, it would be your laugh. There are no flowers woven in your hair - instead, there are hornets and their nests lay settled in your throat and your intention is to sting me every time you open your mouth to say something that isn't my name. This isn't about poetry I've read about the moon and the sun and the cosmic loneliness of every star despite the presence trillions of them in the same sky. This is about how some stars find your presence so alluring that they begin to tumble from the sky and this is what we wish upon. This is about bruised lips mumbling words carved into coffee tables and ****** fingers tracing the rim of your favorite coffee cup. This isn't about love. This is about you.

Aug 2016 lil veggie

Let me tell you something

Aug 2016 lil veggie

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Let me tell you something

I want to be the abandoned house you snuck into every other night
because there was nowhere else to go.
Slam my trembling frame against the wall like an old vase
and smile as every ***** inside me crumbles like books off their shelf in the midst
of an earthquake caused from the faults inside your knuckles
and underneath your tongue.
I want to be every bad habit that you can't break. When there are no more walls to punch, you can leave holes in my bones instead.
When there's a pit in your stomach that you never can fill,
you can shove me in your mouth with both hands and eat fast
and feel me run down your chin.
You can savor the nausea from overindulgence
and grab the crumbs from off the floor.
You can tip me over and lick me up.
When you can't bite your nails anymore, my throat is welcoming your teeth.
Don't be afraid because this is your last lack of cigarettes;
You can always light me up instead, my love.
I can assure you my screams are more addicting
than what any nicotine can give you.
And me? I'm just addicted to the way 'good girl' rolls of your lips.
I'm addicted to being the reason you can't stop, won't stop, don't stop.
I want to be the response to your calls of desperation.
Listen closely to my hips and answer every question they could ever have with your tongue. Tell my neck things that you could never confess to any preacher,
and beg for forgiveness to my thighs until they've giving every ounce of their blessing
to your neck.
Don't worry about collapsing
I will catch all of you and swallow you whole.
Tell me I moan like an angel, even though I feel like sin.
I love the way my ribs creak when I hear you say my name.