Little whimpers escape your lips as your fingers reach toward the moon

Your wrists are gripped and forced against brick

Breaths coming and going quickly

Yelps from your throat leave you raw

Teeth in your neck leave you rigid

Aching, eyes drooping

Cold and heavy

You drop
Elisabeth Sep 14
Velvet fingertips taste your lips, followed by lace hearts.

Listening to dusty thoughts across the room, soft and grainy notes of a record.

Peach cheek brushes against yours, and those silk lips whisper beautiful nothings.

Those velvet fingertips follow your profile, leaving a warm flush.
Elisabeth Sep 14
These shots were never taken by chance

They were of anger taken under sunshine

This smoke can oh so muddle your view of the truth

They use smoke of their own to hide their intentions



But the truth can be seen rolling by, glinting red

The weapon of black turns their eyes white 

One shines with tears; the other dull and dirty

The greedy man hides the youth of all seventeen



It could have been stopped

And the young could continue

This is preventable

But he continues to enable



His smiles are swamp green

His words are shiny gold

But he hides it all behind his suit of blue
I wrote this right after the shooting in Florida actually happened and poured all of my anger, sadness and fear into it.
Elisabeth Sep 14
I see your gaze tunneled blurry

I know you only see my face as painted with a sharpie  

And see me as your dolly

Because I’m not real I’m just your pretty plastic body!

Ready to play whenever you demand Harvey.

Your ugly plastic words fall upon deaf plastic ears- but sure it’s a party!  

Underneath I scream and fight to stay sturdy.

I am not your dolly!

I am not just your pretty plastic body!



And I would not ‘look so pretty wearing this red lipstick with my lips wrapped around your dick,’ Harvey.
Elisabeth Sep 12
A mirror reflects harsher words than I’ve ever heard,
Even if they’re slurred.

These words say they won’t grieve,
Won’t care if I leave.

I go after my veins looking to bleed
Maybe then I can be freed.

These voices continue to come in a flood-
Maybe I can escape with my blood.

I can hear them no matter how much I scream and shout
Maybe another sting will draw them out

Another sting and I’ll feel something else.
Maybe then I’ll feel my pulse.

Another sting and maybe it will mask the sting of my own words...
Elisabeth Sep 12
Numb spreads through your veins.

Spreading like ice on the surface of a fast freezing lake.

You are becoming frozen, hypothermic.

Immobile like the mannequins in the shop windows.

Your fingers and toes tingle, and your throat is paralyzed.

Eyes transfixed by a hypnotist.

Glossy, like all the rest unmoving, empty behind the glaze.

Your head lulls to the side, a puppet done with the show.

Water beats at your shell, yelping yearning for your thoughts.

Your brain has flown away, back to its own fairy-tale, leaving your corpse behind.

— The End —