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3am
arin Apr 2019
3am
my flesh screams at itself
bile rising in my throat
shaking fingers grasping silver
the walls are closing in
the swarm starts again
swirling twisting spinning
bloodshot eyes
claws tearing apart flesh
wishing to fold in on myself
how many times until i disappear
slowly carving my apology in the wall
apologizing for getting worse again
there's no excuse good enough
nothing can dismiss these ghouls
they pull a blanket over me and have pinned it down
i cannot find my way out
it is too dark to have any hope
in this night i am filled with doubt
that i can ever escape
let my blood drops turn to roses
may they bloom at my grave
so if anyone visits this cemetery
they will know where to find me
signed the walking corpse of a boy
that buried his own body
why do i always go on tangents at 3am
8am
arin Jul 2019
8am
when did breakfast
become a feeling
of complete
failure
8pm
arin Jul 2019
8pm
Burning throat
Bruised knuckles
Gasping breath
Sliced ankles
Rotting insides
Inevitable tears
Small smile
Bathroom breakdown
arin Jul 2019
equivalent exchange
three days of hallow
in exchange for
three days of strength
but there is always
consequences
dizzy stumbling falling
headaches chills fatigue
whether it was the sickness
or my debt to be paid
it was a fair trade
to feel untouchable
unstoppable
capable
godly
arin Nov 13
blooming red and pink tulips
with an underbrush of heliotropes
a vast garden incapable of decay
watered daily with false hopes
under blue shining skies
that can only hope to resemble your eyes
arin Jul 2019
I was in heavenly bliss
Because for one night
I was his
arin Nov 2021
i wish i could go up to that roof in detroit
up the 73 floors to top
i can only imagine the view
how the wind will feel going down
but that’s too much of a mess
too public, i don’t want to bother anyone
so i’ll dress my best like a princess
and fantasize of flower fields
blooming with new life in spring
and pretty pills for pretty girls
that make them sleep forever
only having sweet dreams
no dragons, no thorns

i wonder if they’ll find me
if i go, i’ll miss you
arin Nov 2019
skin bean bag chairs are sliced and emptying
the rocking chair of bones creak and splinter
hot tubs filled crimson and boiling
organs in the office soon to be fired
small home in absolute shambles
this is the best it's been in years
although seen obscene
it's the war between
survival
and
revival
arin Feb 2019
the numbers are all that matter
i keep track of them
whenever they go up
and every time they

d
r
o
p

d
o
w
n

closer to beauty
closer to perfection
closer to zero
arin Oct 2022
boiling streams of magma
run through my volcanic veins
my planetary core
bubbles to the surface
i cannot stop
pouring out
arin Apr 2019
it all falls away
looking at arms and thighs
they're the wrong places to peek
prepared to spit out rehearsed lies
another round of hide and seek
they're surprised i do so well
this little game we play
rubies spill burning like hell
it all falls away
i'm the best at hiding
arin Dec 2022
how can the burn of bile
make me fearful
yet satisfied
i will remain in denial
that i prefer illness
over bliss
arin Jun 2019
if his eyes were the last thing i saw
before mine closed for the last time,
i would die happy simply knowing
that i saw the lovely ocean
one last time
just a quick short one because i haven't posted in a long while and wowow i'm full of so much love rn
arin Apr 2019
this black hole
it rips out of my chest
screeching and tearing
i thought i locked it away
it's all too much again
its grip is deadly
lungs collapsing
starry eyes
tunnels tunnels tunnels
there's no escape
it will swallow me whole
no help is here
spinning, swirling
twisting, turning
lost in the abyss
arin Jun 2021
i wish that i could write
i wish that i had words worth value
there's simply nothing i can say
that i haven't already said
so i wish for something new
something to write about
something to remember
something as a reminder
why i need to keep living
arin Mar 2019
i want to kiss you
let me look into those beautiful eyes
and let our hands intertwine
as our hearts beat as one
god, just say you want me
and give us a chance
♡♡♡
arin Nov 2022
a constant stream of ink
stories upon stories told
and long forgotten by the author
twenty one : seemingly young
yet it already feels close to done
because even permanent marker
can eventually be wiped away
this life doesn't have a sense of
ownership ; it is not fully mine
and this puzzle was started
by someone else
arin Nov 2022
no longer a poet
or a muse / simply
an inoperable tumor
/party tattoos and
crushed cigarettes
one/ done / fast /repeat
i'm cold and tired
#ed

— The End —