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Sierra Collins Jan 2013
i light up a cigarette and watch the smoke take shapes
they disappear into the twilight, completely dark,
except for the ghostly glow of the embers,
blazing in the black emptiness.
my breath turns to fire and my veins to ice
my heart pounds violently against its ribcage prison,
proving that, despite the cancer stick between my
chapped lips, i am (unfortunately) alive.
with every drag, reality melts into fantasy
and with every burning inhale,
i fall further and further
into the universe of my creation.
here, there is no emotion, no feeling,
no colour, no words, no existence
and that’s the way i like it.
Sierra Collins Jan 2013
The apocalypse was coming
I could hear it in the wind
You were my own personal hell
Waiting to rip me apart
I knew from the beginning
Why didn’t I run?

You were all lies and lust
But still I held on tight
Addicted to the feeling of
Your anger on my skin
It was better to feel pain
Than to feel nothing at all

There were moons in your eyes
Your touch got me high
The whiskey on your lips
Tasted like a flash of lightning
And you set me on fire
With every lonely kiss

And in the morning, I knew
I’d be bruised and scarred
Permanent reminders of our
Confused, twisted love
They represented your cruelty
And my ignorance

Then with delusional conviction
I would tell myself that even though
You’d ripped me to pieces and
Thrown me to the ground,
I love you in a twisted way
And you love me the same

— The End —