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I don't want to reopen my old wounds
But it’s just the only thing I have left to do
There's nothing more to be said about me
Except for a condolence or a passing apology

Picking at the ***** scars, hoping for an infection
Hoping the festering bacteria would spread through
Hoping for sensation, or something maybe close
Hoping that these old wounds would feel brand new

I’m already too numb to ask for more medication
Already too debilitated to beg for a final miracle cure
I’m already too sick, far too late to try on and on
Already at the brink of extinction to still feel unsure

I’m opening old wounds, bleeding them out to dry
Doing everything they all told me not to do, only left out to die
There’s nothing more to be done, no band-aid left to rip
These old wounds seem useless when there’s nothing left in me to fix.
Inspired by the song Old Wounds by PVRIS.
ready steady
hit the clutch
i’ve got your greed
you’ve got my guts

ready steady
please me dim
please you sober
displeased again

ready steady
back and forth
know thyself
more than thy worth

ready steady
hit and touch
bruised and blue-lipped
unlove too much.
Silly love, nuanced as you please
There ain’t nothing I could ever do
I may look like I swallowed the ring of keys
But flying our stolen starship is all up to you

Drive my confused brain cells into extinction
Set the blush on my cheeks straight to full ignition
Don’t let the curious violets catch you softly shrinking
Nevermind my lopsided grin, love, tell me what you’re thinking

Silly love, ornate as you can be
There ain’t nothing I wouldn’t ever do
I may read like flimsy paper-thin allegories
But finding me out is far from something new

Twist up my elastic veins to cat’s cradle elation
I know I’m not rare, but I’d still be your florid fiction
And when the shy mimosas catch us slowly unfolding
We’ll shake ourselves silly as we flee, love, tell me if you’re falling.
Inspired by the song All Over Again by Big Time Rush.
unbound cliffs
resurgence
i see spindles
of thunder float
behind studded
eyelids

the day is only
young if i
ask it to; my spine is
cracked like an
unloved book, but
the writing has faded

into bloated gums
swelling with
indignation
swear on your god
knife to paper
ink to straw

touch the edge
of the cloud for another
story—lightning
strikes twelve
under turbid gazes,
placid
chew the shards of glass
between your overcast teeth
and promise me this time—

promise me you wouldn’t lie.

doesn’t feel too good with
blood overflowing in your
mouth, does it? did it turn
the ashes into putrid mud,
as well, and pour out from
every orifice in a thick, dull
sludge, confessing the crimes

tucked quietly behind those
calculating, glimmerless eyes…

does the crunching of glass
sound like the bones i broke
trying to convince myself that
your gaping lips are meant for
more than blatant fabrications—

does the crunching of glass
sound like sweet music to you,

the way it does to me right now?
my dear pretty starling
you'll hold my fragile attention
for no more than perhaps a season

but i'll still sit under your acacia branch
collecting iridescent feathers
as i listen to you beckon away the sun

and my dear pretty starling
soon you'll migrate to warmer evergreen
so i wish your wispy heart farewell

for mine has rotted off like bad fruit
but i'll still tuck away the seeds
for your curious beak to plant elsewhere.
A renegade dream
All burned up in sins
Fall against reason
Fight against rhyme

I could stay and wait
A little while longer
But it seems that I’m
Running out of time

Yet to spill apart this
Chest, and carve my
Second thoughts onto
Your creased brows

I’d gladly let you do
The same—if only our
Fatal circumstance
Shall ever mildly allow.
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