this october i will never leave my bed
until all my friends think i am dead
i'll be sleeping in my grave this halloween

i woke up in a tear stained lace dress black boots
still drunk with bruised wrists i woke up delicate
feeling hallow i woke up hopeless & next to a
man much older than me no longer innocent
haunted by what he had done still believing he
loved me i woke up ******* manic on a monday
morning to run barefoot & say goodbye to my
friend for the last time & to get high before college
or school but i cant remember which i woke up
from a bittersweet dream where an awful friend
held me under the flowers to say he was sorry for
the things he couldnt remember but i would never
forget & he told me he was crueler than i can
imagine i woke up wishing it was a real apology i
woke up sick in bed barely breathing from too
many pills i woke up devastated to still be alive i
woke up in a cheap hotel room with a boy i met
once at a gig when we had nothing left to give i
woke up faded on medication with my friends
hand up my skirt & i had made sure to wear my
nicest underwear ivory silk since i knew it would
happen again & woke up crying i woke up
desperate i woke up idyllically lonely under death
in the stars i woke up numb & made of porcelain i
woke up not entirely here & woke up bleeding &
woke up grieving. i woke up in everlasting fear

im not entirely sure if i ever woke up this morning

we performed a seance for ourselves
and whispered delicacy till we forgot
all the misery and heartbreak
which helplessly brought us together in the early night

what will then make of us?
as two strangers lost in the absence of everything
apart from the stars above our heads
radiating like our halo of dappled light

i loved never knowing you
it made me blind to anything you could do

wasn’t it your birthday?
when, for only a tender moment
we disappeared
smiling like we had gone missing on the way home - charming

promise me, if we ever meet again
we would soon be dead in absentia

i hope when i die i’ll see you
i hope
i hope…

when we rot together
out grows raspberries and heather

from decay dancing in our everlasting days
kids play cards on top of our grave

or of a lovers first kiss
bestowed a flower they pluck, we couldn’t miss

budded from inside our heart and ribs
wild flora born and raised in our skeletal cribs

lines of sheets like cotton cream and pink
floral ghosts, dance in the window above my kitchen sink
holding hands as they haunt and tease
my garden of lavender and lilac sweet peas

stars disappear into a morning so delicate that there’s nothing
aside from me and the raspberry spirit washing

a perpetual blur of white figures
shroud ghosts of my being as it lingers
the distortion of the simplest thoughts
drown me with moonstruck gazes in knots
flickers of recognition bleed into stares
each breath i take is raw and rare

my incomprehensible terror as bleached bodies
follow my every step - disembodied
hiding my fear blushing through my fingers
angels laugh and burn their cigars
on pale flames perseverating, taunting me
with trailing smoke and obscure entities

unholy bliss in the idea of death
the wish for escape in my choked breath
forcing a spiral into a cacophonic delusion
thinking nothing is real, it’s all an illusion  
i’m chasing heaven as i start to cry
for the dread in knowing i can never die

sleep won’t visit anymore, i only waste away
so i choke on nightmares wide awake

see the lights fade to dark
shroud myself in your words, till they too fall apart

nights blurred together, missing meaning
i've hidden in your arms to hold back all i'm feeling

but i'm so tired...
i can't hide that each day i'm becoming less and less inspired

even in memories of summer, the flowers are dying.
we asked for too much and gave such little back,

now irises bloom black

when it rains they’re suffocated; drowned instead of fed
we were thoughtless, even after they were dead.

so many wilted petals for my dread

cruelty is all I adore
in this nightmare i’ve had several times before
my bed is kissed with blood
from this devotion to violent love
you forced me to believe in
now lilies flower from my heart breaking
reliving all you did in dreams
so I lie awake, petals bursting at my seams

still waiting for you to disappear completely

i'm living in my haunted house
with a shadow of myself
and about ten others too
in my haunted house
i'm a ghost in my own room
where i lost my mind over and over
so i'm never going home

hiding in his own wardrobe is a man named laurance

his home has no tables, no chairs
only a mattress and a set of stairs
he had made a furniture fire
weirdly a story i admire

for winter when he couldn't afford heating
burning his door to keep his heart beating
but i wouldn't give laurance any pity
since he wasn't so witty

he spent all his rent money on acid
and boxes of cigarettes he sold for a quid
because of this he hides in his cupboard
from his ******* landlord

i’m seeing things
my blood is pale
it’s sickly white

to my unfortunate delight

it’s curing my cute cuts
healing them
in adorable bandages

i'll only have lilies soon

you choose to appear
so deliberately
when i find something delicate

i am hopeless
with your presence
treading so lightly in love

to keep you away

my worries turn to prayers
i recite every fleeting
yet everlasting moment you are here

when will i forget (you)?

my heart has never been full
yet it still overflows - i’m half empty

but silently splitting at the seams, scared
to have these same dreams

but i'll close my eyes for you.
with all my heart slowly spilling

kissing me with blood.
i’ve hidden us well, but

i still cross my legs when i think of you.
you left me blinded,

with pink stains forever in my skin.
at least you no longer see me as broken.

The cemetery of my mind, my body under my heart shaped grave

frustrating spits of rain over my last bouquet that had withered over months. The time I took to fix the stems seems useless as it still decays, beyond myself;

I stay sealed in my casket, a frame on the shelf with my smiling face. I was lost but still -

touching veins, delicately shaking under sheets of white; that then lay me to rest, cold cuts into dead skin

leaving my flesh to breathe in the smoke from stairways of light - resting, left-overs in the morgue.

My corpse unfinished, their hands curing rigor mortis. I hear the mortician whispering, ‘it takes time’

but this void of life inside means I cannot feel growth. His words echoing past my unaware sleep. I’m beyond saving and I show nothing. Aside from,

grinning for my funeral

i live in the heart of my predator
once blissfully unaware
sleeping in pink floral sheets

now wallpaper white and withered
have curled into teeth
dripping blooming lilies

knowing this i still crawl into my hunter's mouth
and cry to sleep
as prey for my own home

our room begins to breathe blossom
lip stained cigarettes cast a roseate smoke
cream walls fade from blushing nicotine

charming addicts adorned with primrose cheeks
and hollyhock pollen dripping from their noses

our laughter soon slips into misty delight
eyes barely open to see the peachy haze
kissing us from one too many pink pills

she waits alone far away from the group, where she can feel lost. the blades of grass, long enough to distort the fabric of her dress. lace curled around botanical rings. Delicate pink petals that she collects, iris’ she plucks gently by the stem. pollen glitter reflecting rays through the trees, concealing her scuffed knees. taking a white wildflower into her collection, for a makeshift bouquet.

This is where she felt at peace, almost real but not yet. but seeing a figure split amongst the trees, running catching it’s own pieces. the fragments of shadows leaking into the flowers. perspective of her corpse, left in the forest, watching the world decay faster than her dreams. It reaches out for her, one step closer, until

the warm embrace of a familiar face, clutching her closer as the figure vanishes. kissing her neck and taking her back, feeling the rush of blood fill her cheeks, pool in her once numb hands. the fleeting feeling of possible love masking the fear, hearts around her head. No longer feeling dread, of wishing the forest could take her life instead.

I hope I’m not being pedantic
when I say you’re not being romantic

but the scars you gave me are romance
affection through a stockholm glance

it’s so dreamy to feel so scared
maybe that’s your idea of love

please dont kick down the door
my bloods still all over the floor
its red and pink
i cut my hair, its in the sink

please leave me alone
pain in love is all ive known
let me cry
but dont let me die

i miss you and love everything you do
but you cant see me now, im just so scared of you

I never stuck to our promise in all my glory
instead i jumped from seven stories

right into your arms with a pinky twinge
radio static humming while I cut your fringe

oh it was all such a distant dream
now I’m sober and clean

every moment is fleeting
I can feel my heart forever beating

i am hopelessly in love with memories
of adoring you and your strawberries

we would lie in your single bed you had since you were seven
promising to never love sober again

while you ate a strawberry shortcake of a porcelain plate
dressed up sultry to be sick till you faint

my cheeks rosey, sweetened with drops of nicotine
admiring you while you decorate your own guillotine

you told me if you’re sick the baby will be sick
i didn’t understand it, till i was throwing up strawberries in the sink

worried nights wasted, waiting for my mind to be misplaced
but you know how I adore being such a mess
completely heartless

I hallucinate a heart shaped halo over my head
meaning - I’ve been a good girl but naive
with my bruised longing to feel agony of several ghosts
fall inside me.

bundles of floral cotton sheets
in a peachy light, under our feet
as my eyes follow the stars in the night
tracing them to wires in a misty haze

while he only exists again in this imaginary phase
asleep but not dreaming by my pretend side
white figures gathered at the end of the bed
watch my insomnia play with the patterns that spill through my head

but I love it like this
I love this dreadful bliss
this place where I can wear my shoes home instead of
crying all the way, under a barely pink moon