Traitorous wings droop and wilt from my body,
Layers of cerulean dust shedding onto the forest floor.
Oh, what a chore -
And I’m so lazy and so hazy, so hazy and maybe I
Am falling back down with a slowness like slow-mo.
Drowning out background noise like shrieks and my energy peaked
Too long ago and I
Can’t hear it at all anymore.

I wish I could fly, even if the air is toxic and obnoxious,
If the oxygen fills my lungs with carbon and smoke,
I’ll **** it all in and,
Boy, let me fly, let me try,
But I just can’t feel the pressure of the heavy air
Against the backdrop of my melting chitin
And I can’t bother to flap or to snap out of it
This is all drowsy thoughts now but it seems
They’re all drowsy thoughts now.

Like, trusting in the world is a tiring thing,

Letting yourself go to the pressure of the Earth.
And the gas filling my throat was sending me into throes
Now I’m crumbling into the ground and sinking into the asphalt like
The breath gets ****** from between my lips and I learn to breath coal dust
And I learn that let go of my trust and my must and the way I want to just fall.

It’s hard to give it my all when my all is all I’ve got,
When...
I know I’m the one searing off my own wings,
And it burns, and it hurts,
Just let me fly, just let me soar,
Into the sun and furthermore,
Just let me burn to a crisp.

I was too close to the sun and it took
Embers to save me.
It took the flames reaching the tips of my
Wings to send me back down to the surface of
Where I needed to be and:
Now my wings are ooze but
I can’t burn anymore and
I don’t know what’s worse.

it is like this: they tear you away from yourself, screaming and crying,
and tell you it will be alright now, dear.

they redefine you, naming each and every part,
and when they can not define your flaws,
sit down. “dear -
dear"
“dear, won’t you tell this what this is?"
and so you answer for someone long gone
you bury the dead, and you answer for her.

it is like this: they tell you that she was everything wrong with the world,
and you’re here to replace her.
they tell you you’re a fitter model,
shapelier, built to par.

they leave you, but they have not left.
remember: you could not exist without them.
you are not you, you do not own you
you are them. you are what they want you to be.

trying to take one note of a very long song and guess the genre
or each note, individually, heard alone
and over each note plays countless other nonsensical melodies
jumbled and inseparable
is what they did to you.

Suffocation in it’s purest form
Breathlessness, gasping, gasping
Nothing in return, nothing to hold,
Blue lips and white space,
Purple cheeks and white space
Red, red eyes — white space

Weak in the knees,
Crumple, crumpling into abandon
In that white space, in that suffocation,
Shaking hands, making plans, cutting into that white space
White space in it’s purest form.