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emily Oct 20
trigger warning: abuse

here it is again,
that familiar feeling
of subjugation

bruised wrists
so desperately missing that aching sensation,
the one which shows that he loves you
enough to use your body as a canvas
for his masterpieces

but this time
you fight back

and this angers him
for your body is not small

to fit in the
palm of his hand

he tries

but your long curls spill from his palm
and wrap around his arms,
slithering upwards
tightening around his neck

eyelashes like blades
carving and scraping out each artery
one by one

seas of cellulite gushing
and flooding into his

submerging him deep
under the rivers
of your divine revulsion

he usually isn’t the type of man
to surrender

but the way roaring screams are
being ripped from his throat
and the way his usually
black eyes transform
into white flags
prove that
you are strong enough to
change everything.
emily Oct 20
I wish my confessions would fall upon a heart that will listen
emily Oct 19
Last night you made me feel alive,
For the first time in forever.
But not the kind of alive that she made me feel—
Because she made me feel like the world
in which we live in is enchanted,
When I touched her I believed in magic,
And I finally understood what it meant
To feel infinite at the hands of another soul.
I kissed her dizzy on the bathroom floor and an unnamed heaven was discovered in her lips.
emily Oct 19
My relationship with Death is impeccable
Those thoughts now feel like home:
Like peace and serenity

Without them I would be skin and bone—
But futile lungs and a heart that doesn’t beat.
Death makes up the very backbone of me

Without Her I would be nothing.
Her shadow arms embrace me in my dreams
Black lips kiss at my aching hips,
She greets me in bed.

Today we were announced married.
Her dark veil awaiting me at the collapsing arch,
Heart in my mouth
I mutter curses and in return She incites,

We are one,
The way it always has been.
Hello I’ve never published any of my work before and this is my first time doing so, I hope you enjoy this <3
  Oct 19 emily
Full of breath, energy, and life
Empty of kisses, adornment, and contentment,
But it's bright
Same color of my smile, teeth, and skin but as elusive as reality
I love you, my belly
You saved my brain and was a envelop to the pain
You contain the yummy of earth, the strife of life
Yet, it's not understood or exhumed to the beauty of the round
But compared to the emptiness and expense of the leveled for the flatter
I am not a flat Earther, mother Earth is found to be round.
  Sep 2019 emily
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was

— The End —