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 Jan 2023 Scarlett
FrankieM
I can only pour so much
Of myself into you
You say I'm half empty
I say I'm half full

It's hard to stay gentle
When you've been so cruel
I say I'm in love
You say I'm a fool
 Jan 2023 Scarlett
b33
gardens
 Jan 2023 Scarlett
b33
you kicked gravel,
uprooted earth in my mouth.
growing on my tongue,
developing consciousness

yet i swallow my city,
stick out my tongue to the earth,
and taste your cruelty so strongly
 Jan 2023 Scarlett
Sylvia Plath
Not easy to state the change you made.
If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn't just tow me an inch, no--
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter--
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly-chisled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears,
Angels weeping over dull natures,
But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of ice.

And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I was was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in dew
Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.
I didn't know what to make of it.
I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.
I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.

Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift.
 Jan 2023 Scarlett
Dead lover
Will it ever stop to hurt?
Will I ever forget you dressing up in that cream shirt?

There are moments when am happy, and then I cry inconsolably,
I've gone crazy, totally.

I will always pray for your happiness and success,
and my feelings I shall try to suppress and no longer express.

Your smile fills my heart with emotions, as if it were causing a flood,
My heart keeps aching for you, as if a part of you has been dissolved in my blood.

Day by Day, my spirit moves away from this body of clay.
I'm afraid as a character, I don't have long to stay in my own play.

This love is unrequited, I'm delighted I have memories to fill up my heart's treasury.
Still for some reason there's this curiosity, will ever he?
I wish you live happily. I've no anger or hatred towards you. And I hope I do stop bugging you.

Idk if this is your way of helping me get my closure, but it is honestly more difficult than I had imagined it to be. You've been so indifferent to my "I love you", would a single "thank you" had hurt you? Would it still hurt you to just randomly acknowledge them someday?

You'll not believe me if I were to tell you that each of the time that I've spent with you is engrained and it pops up as a happy memory... My brain has started to uncover memories from back in school - in depths I never knew I had lived back then... But at the same time, I'm also living a hard-to-get-on terms kinda realisation yet again, your love interest was not me and shall never be me.

I'll pray for you and whoever you choose to be with. May you live long happy and healthy lives in ways you both dream and then deem fit.

I just hope to have some strength within me to be able to repress these emotions again... In tired of them resurfacing over and over again, when we aren't meant to be why can't they just be done with?

I'm nobody to complain but it does pain to imagine that he had time for people but me... I just don't matter to him.. I regret that you can't even be honest with me that it took you soo long to just turn me down... I wonder if I am so bad as a person that you decided to leave me hanging? I also wonder if I have ever done so much harm that i just end up hurt over and over again... But it would be good if I don't jinx anyone's life.. I don't know why do you say I'm a good person, it took SB 5 years of relationship and 9 years of knowing me to conclude that I'm a very bad and manipulative person. I do not know what eyes you see me thru.. but thank you.. even though I do not relate with your interpretation, but from the bottom of my heart I really appreciate your effort at trying to see me as a person than as a body.

I love you, and i always will.
i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me.

i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability.

let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you.

because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.
                                         you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.
                                          i tell you that i have been to four.
                                          names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining.
20mg.
                    30mg.
you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet.

let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh;
i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.
                       tragic, isn’t it.

you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know.
i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.
                                             i know.
please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning.
i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.
                                                                ­                 let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore.

let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.
                                             and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.

                                              tragic, isn’t it.
 Jan 2023 Scarlett
Darcy Lynn
I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.

I can paint over nearly anything

You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.

My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.

I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
Pas-de-I-am-fine
I get a standing ovation every time

I’m very talented, you see.

But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I
Slip
Slip
Slip
Away

Right through your fingers.
 Jan 2021 Scarlett
Mitch Prax
To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.
 Jan 2021 Scarlett
Rollercoaster
Shadows are impersonations.
They move around
In the sneakiest of ways.
Lurking and inching and cheating.
Trying to escape the mirror.
The darkness died when the hero won.
It didn’t.
It just followed them, lurking to get back.
The core is darker of the fake.
They’re dark,
because they tell them of the time gone by.
In monochrome,
the color died, it lives in the real world now.
I don’t have a shadow.
I am one.
 Jan 2021 Scarlett
Ugo
Iridium fastball pitches
from Zuni serpent mound,
bottom of the 9th walk-off homerun
over 30ft diving moai.

Slide to home base in volcanic lava
to congratulatory ***** Gatorade bath
from Kubla Kahn forefathers,
chanting psychedelic clubhouse anthems.

Levitate from home plate
and land atop Pyramid of Cholula for victory dinner;
for since we’re all artists in our dreams,
true dreams never come true.
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