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Oct 2015
Shaped by the sounds of cracked bells
and choirs of nervous children,
our jaws hold demons
that dance behind grinding teeth.

We etch guilt into lovers' hearts,
we pour desire into strangers' drinks.
We spew words like poison,
we scar through our touch.

Our mothers love us dearly
and we are still children
they cannot control;
we throw fits
when our toys break.
Our voices are too loud.
We can't sit straight.
Our hands touch everything they can
because we're scared we won't live much longer.

We caress the cheek of death
and swallow the drugs we're given.

We hoard fears like dragons.

Our scales fall off.

We sit in Paradise
and are fed the type of love
that will never feel like enough.

We drip in the need toΒ exist
yet we are quiet,
so very quiet
in a world where you don't see us.

Shaped by the sounds of cracked bells
and choirs of nervous children,
our jaws hold demons
that dance behind grinding teeth.

We etch guilt into lovers' hearts,
pour desire into strangers' drinks.

We spew words like poison,
and love like savages.

We love
'till our hands tremble.
'Till the universe beats us into *****, sobbing newborn animals.

Fear cradles us
and we love.

We love like infants need milk,
like stars too curious to die in an ocean of soundless black,
like caged lions who break their prison
and spare their abusers.
We love like couples dying of old age,
like young country boys
who step into a labyrinth of skyscrapers for the first time,
like mermaids who drown men with lust-filled eyes,
like snarling mother bears,
like animals,
like monsters,
like children.

We love...

we love

like children.

Our lungs held together
with glue.
Our hearts cut up
with scissors
our first grade teacher handed us
saying
"Please be careful."

"You could hurt yourself."

"Don't cry, it's just a scratch."

"I will always love you."

"Do your home work."

"I made you your favorite treat."

"Have a good day!"

"I hate you, I hate you so much."

"Never give up. Never."

"Goodnight."

"God, you're so beautiful."

"THEN **** YOURSELF ALREADY."


...


We are broken,

but we love

we love

like children.
-
I met somebody.
We are both
mentally ill.
Dante
Written by
Dante  26/Non-binary/Connecticut
(26/Non-binary/Connecticut)   
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