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Aug 2019 · 103
Offer your bones
Dawn Vleu Aug 2019
heavy
as i walk i feel i am a stone
my head envelopes with blended ropes
not my own, never my own
she can’t create or learn

my temple is being grouped with rocks
and they are being called souls.
there is no time to speak,
no mind
outside people are dying
decaying.
inside people are walking and
i am confused.

going by faster,
the colors change tone
my hearts are beating the
same rhythm as my screams
i am still a stone
dragging myself to the following note
the next line filling up unknown space,
I am sinking as i try to float.
i have forgotten how to be
the one you once chose.

i keep trying to smile but my
gardened parts sorrow to my brain
and everything thats supposed to hit
all those emotions that spin 
just don’t quite make it to my skin.
as i inhale
i get pushed back down,
the way that girl used to think 
is gone.
A boy today in my geometry class
told me
“you aren’t the same”.
i was only gone for 15 days
my heart is coated the same ruby red,
why do i feel like an imposter in my veins

bones have been frightened for so long,
the closer you move,
more wrong you make,
you will feel the whole ocean around your neck,
filling you up.

a rock that hears,
gets kicked around its house, the ground
yet  doesn’t make a sound.
all around the area there is a
loud vibration,
pain as you try standing up
fingers tremble as you try being yourself
what can you do?
there is no response.

no one is going to hold you anymore
you’ve grown up and mother doesn’t have time to hug an element.
.
Mar 2018 · 47
Dead Girl
Dawn Vleu Mar 2018
Do you like what you see when you stare inside?
Past your punctured nose
and viscous lies,
your emerald eyes
and fractured spine,
those blood shot eyes
and purple veiny thighs.

“Your body is a temple”
Mother lies.
she loves you,
just a ****** spider web
filled up with pure lies.

Scarlet thin hair covering your surface,
an image you tried so hard to change
you hardly recognize yourself.
The girl that used to make pies.
Now grim,
more dead than alive
and crying ice.

Agitated
she resembles a canvas of an ocean at night.
so cold, once filled with life.
But you do not listen nor care why.

-
via @dawnvleu

— The End —