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Apr 2017 · 1.6k
Solitary
Sarah Boon Apr 2017
The unexplainable feeling
of feeling
wanted
Wanted: for pouring matches into my vessel
My toes tremble in dewy grass
My heels sank into the earth
It's difficult to be difficult,
I know this.
Grab my lungs and shake it like a toy,
but please don't break my heart.
I would never give somebody broken glass as a gift,
So I can understand why you can't handle me.
For fear of being cut open,
because you were looking for a hug
Apr 2017 · 408
Another Home
Sarah Boon Apr 2017
Departing umbrellas, we hope the ride was hell!
Please enjoy the rain you're ready for
that is going to wash the crevices of your ribs.

Flocks of crows sitting in a concrete abyss
with itchy stubble
and broken toes
I lost their feathers in the eye of the storm,
as angels wept snow over blue mountains

You must declare danger before you shout war
as weapons are lustful for your children
a forbidden affair has started
between the innocence and the bullets,

And lust, in the form of broken eye contact,
Shifting thighs,
Warming cheeks,

One hand
briefly
on your shoulder
Apr 2017 · 269
Dying Oak
Sarah Boon Apr 2017
Listen to the crying cats at the pianos

and the howling dogs at the bars

Swallow a pit until it's jammed in your throat

and try not to cry out,

Eat my soul, and spit it all out.

Wrapped around my skulls is this illness

of the mellow blues and dead honey bees

Bring the dead back to light with water and ****,

let her light her cigarette,

she's had a very, very, long death.
Apr 2017 · 654
Clouds of Clouds
Sarah Boon Apr 2017
We live in a superficial world
of shattered identities
and
a loss of reality

my senses are
Numb

We do not know what it is to feel :
anything

sadness
has died
in cipralex

anxiety
has drowned
in clonazepam

my cheap, glass arm
was about to break
in the basement of a house
that i tried so hard to call home

I am
utter
sheer
nonsense

we will live together,
and I,
I will die alone
Apr 2017 · 423
Womb to Grave
Sarah Boon Apr 2017
I've played this game for far too long
to consider quitting now
The consumption of anxiety for breakfast,
The lethargic depression on my plate for lunch
The constant debilitating fear of life for dinner
Will not break my core
I would eat scrap metal as a snack, and my body would howl with laughter at me,
How foolish to think that that would do anything to my bones
my body,
my poor, poor body,
absorbs everything I toss into my mouth,
sharp nicotine and old pomegranates
***** raspberries and foaming beer
black mould and cheap sugar
Despite
This:
My heart is still standing strong even though my shoulders don't register
I will fight this life if I have to,
I will live it if I can.
Spinal cords can break;
Blood cannot.

— The End —