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i let mint fester
in the front of my mouth as
a sleeping
beauty,
while hunger slips in t
                                    -he back of my
throat and i try to forget
            her
softer kind of tea;
flower beds roll
over scars in the road.
winter is my home but
i'm always so
cold.

the weight of
my own thoughts...

...all i feel is everything:
self-sabotage is
art.

there are no main characters.
so i exist out in the misty blanket
that lingers after midsummer storms:
stuck in that apathetic draft
that betrays humidity and
its ethos.

chasing an ego in the snow:
appalachia turns it all to ice
and watches me scramble
to an unsteady stance.

i've never caught frostbite,
though i reckon she was
trying.
your friends pity me
i see it in their eyes
but pretend it's
not there

you bring me along regardless
holding hands under the table
laughing alongside them
and we toast to your
oncoming sobriety

and i think they pitied you too
knowing that you and change
were fated mortal enemies
starting from conception.

god buried you in the dirt when he crafted your soul;
and the angels cursed you, turning the earth
to marbled heliotrope:

we met in that dark prison.
you whispered that everyone
had given you up. so i swore
to never leave. to try.
to fight for us. to
love.

you hold my hand for 46 seconds underneath
the sputtering pools of blonde light
after your narcotics anonymous
meeting.

and the angels pitied me as well,
turning their heads at stoplights
and crosswalks like i wasn't even
there.

as if i could forget or pretend
that i've never seen the
eyes underneath
our bed at
night.
btw im not tryna demonize addicts bc that's some rl hard stuff to deal with, my ex-partner just happened to suffer from addiction alongside being an absolutely awful trashbin person.
you hold my hand under the
yellow light of a baptist church
praying to no god:
narcotics anonymous.

you introduce me but it doesn't feel like i'm yours
our clasped hands break apart as
a fifth marlbolo black slips
between your lips.

murmured conversations
secret promises
drift back and forth:
and my apparition
waits in the tepid
night.

i shift back and forth
through the golden amber haze: i could
lean back into the dim scraps of pavement
and no one would notice a thing.
this is going to be a series of poetic memoirs about an abusive relationship i was in a few years ago. i'll have tw in tags but it's mostly the occasional reference to SA and stuff like that.

also idk why but re-reading i just imagine someone with five cigs in their mouth at once LOL
kissing girls:
she makes me feel so alive --
but i miss her funeral anyways
sleeping on my mountain of
burning gold and
empty graves.

leaving leftover tea
out in the car
as it rots and turns to
lukewarm longing.

kissing anyone  
i'll never learn
how to
breathe fire.

i'm nocturnal
but my eyes refuse
to adjust to
the dark.  

so i whisper poetry into
the silhouettes of
whoever will
have me.

i
cry to myself
cradling my skull
in ***** claws
that rip and tear
at everything
i try to
hold.

sleeping in
an empty bed,
i want to hold her
hand again.

i crawl out from
a ****** of pine trees
belly-deep in the tall-grass
where no one dares to wander
mistaking my echoing cries
a painful roaring sob
that reaches
out for the stars --
they think me furious
but i am only
             alone.
someone liked a poem under the same title that i published in 2017. i actually hate that poem and it makes me cringe so i rewrote it. it's not really about the same thing anymore. just about what haunts me. and  how i feel too big. like it all knocks over around me, but my limbs are too long and lanky and i can't help it. like a dragon who can't see in the dark and cries viciously and wants their only love back.
i used to lay on the snowed-in flowerbeds
of nan's backyard. once it snowed enough,
you couldn't tell that a ****** of perrenials
slept peacefully there: all crushed
and crooked beneath
dirt and ice.

some days she'd come and join me
if the ground was soft enough:
we'd stargaze up into the cosmos
of pine trees overhead and listen
for the stillness of winter - the hush
of silence that lingered in the air.

ivy and henbit writhed
gingerly underfoot:
a quiet dogfight
of frozen earth
that begged a
sluggish spring
to come out of
hiding.
i wrote this an hour or two ago for a contest on allpoetry! the prompt was a video covering the spring snow storm that occurred in the northeast recently. it had to be less than 100 words and i'm pretty proud of it. cheers. (if you're interested, my username on there is @opheliaswam).
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