Nightmares
You are still just
a flash or a scream.
The feeling of losing
my hold
on someone slippery,
for something fleeting
As a young girl, I suspected it:
the carnage of night
Who could have warned me?
How quickly I lost sight
of my role in a cuter world,
holding the brightest light, the guardian
devil, bring me back
to that old familiar cage fight
There are layers of stories within me
peeled back subconsciously where our
atmosphere can contact
It's getting close to a vein
my eyes go skipping over every sound
I'm panicking right now
intensive restructuring
I have lost my way
Vulnerable to pressure
and lonely
Desperate for a push
bologna
I feel so dangerous
I want to love
the warmth of your fire
I bet it feels good
to burn and burn away
Dissipate into ashy air
will you hold me higher
for now? I'm soft I heal quickly I don't disobey
the shear when
it creeps in too far. I get happier
when I find my own stars
I get angrier
when coach scrutinizes my arms
No amount of emotion will bring me closer to life
No color speaks to me
like the bright pigment
from my knuckles
in the corners of my cuticles
over these thighs and ankles
we are only alive briefly
thank god
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Nightmares
You are still just
a flash or a scream.
The feeling of losing
my hold
on someone slippery,
for something fleeting
As a young girl, I suspected it:
the carnage of night
Who could have warned me?
How quickly I lost sight
of my role in a cuter world,
holding the brightest light, the guardian
devil, bring me back
to that old familiar cage fight
There are layers of stories within me
peeled back subconsciously where our
atmosphere can contact
It's getting close to a vein
my eyes go skipping over every sound
I'm panicking right now
intensive restructuring
I have lost my way
Vulnerable to pressure
and lonely
Desperate for a push
bologna
I feel so dangerous
I want to love
the warmth of your fire
I bet it feels good
to burn and burn away
Dissipate into ashy air
will you hold me higher
for now? I'm soft I heal quickly I don't disobey
the shear when
it creeps in too far. I get happier
when I find my own stars
I get angrier
when coach scrutinizes my arms
No amount of emotion will bring me closer to life
No color speaks to me
like the bright pigment
from my knuckles
in the corners of my cuticles
over these thighs and ankles
we are only alive briefly
thank god
back on my lonely *** ********
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