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my humour blinds me. it blinds me. it tears me eyes out and scares me it pushes me over and hangs me my brainstem a noose, my eyes, a prize and i will hang there, hot drips down it warms me, it softens the ice it tastes sweet, just like my fathers it looks neat, just like my mother just like her handwriting as she signs the paper as she signs me away just as her grip on my throat just as she suffocates me just as she'll give mouth to mouth, she wants me alive she places her lips on mine and mauls them off perhaps now i'll stay pure, i'll stay hers i would look at the mirror across the hall at me a red lip's for a harlot, she says. she's made mine ruby its neat how deep i'll carve my name on my chest afraid i'll look at the mirror across the hall and not recognize her at all i'll play my nerves to the tune of misery maybe ill glance down the hall and see her smile back maybe i'll hate her, maybe i'l get on all fours and pounce an animalistic rush, a rush nonetheless maybe i'll tear out her eyes, maybe i'll take her soul regardless what i do, i will feel warm its that warmth i crave, the tides shift and the moon breezes the dawn sets and im cold. and i freeze, shards of me snap off i hold them close, i fear i will lose them maybe they should be lost perhaps i should melt them make stained glass of my essence, use it to bind my bedroom window and maybe i should toss them over the edge, the ashes of my youth following suit maybe i should pack them up in twine and parchment maybe i'll hold them in my palm, knuckles white i'll feel them slice through, i'll see crimson paint my nails irregardless i'll feel warm
0
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 12:22 PM UTC
mirror across the hall
my humour blinds me. it blinds me. it tears me eyes out and scares me it pushes me over and hangs me my brainstem a noose, my eyes, a prize and i will hang there, hot drips down it warms me, it softens the ice it tastes sweet, just like my fathers it looks neat, just like my mother just like her handwriting as she signs the paper as she signs me away just as her grip on my throat just as she suffocates me just as she'll give mouth to mouth, she wants me alive she places her lips on mine and mauls them off perhaps now i'll stay pure, i'll stay hers i would look at the mirror across the hall at me a red lip's for a harlot, she says. she's made mine ruby its neat how deep i'll carve my name on my chest afraid i'll look at the mirror across the hall and not recognize her at all i'll play my nerves to the tune of misery maybe ill glance down the hall and see her smile back maybe i'll hate her, maybe i'l get on all fours and pounce an animalistic rush, a rush nonetheless maybe i'll tear out her eyes, maybe i'll take her soul regardless what i do, i will feel warm its that warmth i crave, the tides shift and the moon breezes the dawn sets and im cold. and i freeze, shards of me snap off i hold them close, i fear i will lose them maybe they should be lost perhaps i should melt them make stained glass of my essence, use it to bind my bedroom window and maybe i should toss them over the edge, the ashes of my youth following suit maybe i should pack them up in twine and parchment maybe i'll hold them in my palm, knuckles white i'll feel them slice through, i'll see crimson paint my nails irregardless i'll feel warm
friendlyneighbourhoodwordsmith
Written by
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 12:22 PM UTC
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