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 Nov 2017 sadgirl
lib
why?
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
lib
so today you sat by me at lunch and tried to talk to me
just like i said you would
even though your new best friend is in our lunch too
so why did you do that?
why did you that knowing that you would go back to her
the next period
gossiping with her
instead of with me
why did you do that completely aware
that it would hurt me
physically
mentally
and emotionally
ugh i's going to be another one of those days
exerpts from a letter to my ex-best friend
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
jaz
Untitled
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
jaz
i have studied how men
have ensnared women
and called it love

to those who cannot fathom
a woman beyond womanhood
or a woman  beyond man

she was never yours to understand
she belongs to the deity of her own creation
she belongs to the eve who bit the apple and never apologized
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
mars
11:01 pm
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
mars
they will try to tell you I tried to **** myself.

I swear, it wasn't that.

It's just that the weeds were growing through my ribs and down my back and into my lungs, and no one likes weeds.

so I tried to drink **** killer.

instead it just burnt my throat and made my skin feel like sandpaper

it ripped out my taste buds and numbed the bridge of my nose

and it didn't even get rid of the ******* weeds.
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
lo
we talk about depression like an old, long lost friend; hes the guy that no one can ever remember who invited him to the party, but he always showed up before the end of the night. hes in every photograph we’ve ever taken, a photobomb that we had no chance of preventing. i used to think that he sat behind us like a wave, looming over the shore, wondering when it would crash but i know now he was nestled in the waves of our hair, sat in the spaces between our teeth, lodged in our throats. he knew how to conceal himself when there were cameras around. his name sits uncomfortably in our mouths, like its too big; or maybe its just too ******. his arms always felt warm when they wrapped around my waist to remind me that i still had a waist, i didnt want to have a waist. he spoke every language, knew what to call my downfall in fifteen dialects. he was the kind of friend to hit you where no one would see and claim the battle wound for his own. he had a superpower. he was invisible, but only when he wanted to be, and only to those who he didnt want to see him. he was a magician, a jack of all trades. he dipped his toes in darkness and shook them in my direction; he knew that i dont know how to swim. he knew that i would not want to learn how to swim for him.
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
zero
She's taken your body wash, and used it without permission.
She's used it twice before and
presumed it would be fine to take it again.

You never gave consent.
You even said No.

She's used it twice before so what's a third time,
or a fourth or even a fifth,
she's just hoping you won't snitch and tell someone
she stole something from you...
Your confidence or your peach shampoo?

She lied about the temperature of the bath water,
you were supposed to drown
before you felt the heat,
but you didn't and now you're
tearing your skin to shreds,
Self-destruction on the first date,
how sweet.

She wants you to wash your mouth out,
you said something you shouldn't and now she's mad,
feeling sorry for you is in the past,
the new thing is drowning you in the bath.

Your heads now under water,
feet kicking the floor.
She's doused you with her perfume,
just to see you choke against the wooden frame of the door.
Abuse in calming rooms of peace,
with people you once loved.

Watch out for the screams,
they're muffled underwater.

-Z.xo
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
michele rose
i lost my virginity in a one star hotel in chinatown.
picture this, i was sixteen
he ransacked my body,
taking what wasn’t his
as i cried
get off me
please, god, get off me
he stained those ****** white one star hotel sheets
with my blood,
which wasn’t his to spill
he told me everything’s ok as i tried to push him off of me
i couldn’t sit right for a week after that
sometimes we pour sugar over our wounds because we think that
we need a sparkling trophy for all the pain we’ve gone through,
we want to make the darkest corners of our lives shine
but the ******* truth is
some things were never meant to be beautiful
i was *****
and no poem i will ever write can make that any less ugly
there are some rooms in this house that company shall never enter.
don’t think you are obliged to gild all your heartbreaks,
for in doing so, you are only fooling yourself.
so don’t read this and say it was a pretty poem.
it’s an ugly, ******* disgusting poem,
as it should be.
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
Kaity
When my ****** texted me after 3 years of silence
My body shattered
I've spent all this time picking up the pieces glueing them into place like a puzzle that doesn't quite fit
You swing at me with a hammer
Chipping away at me like the paint I chipped off the deck with my grandpa summers before I met you.
I am the opposite of forgiveness
Sharp teeth, howls of rage, and jagged edges
If our bodies turned red where unwanted fingers like claws, carved into us, I would look like I was bleeding out
I don't know when I became a space to be filled
I have made you as ghost story as possible
Using you only as a joke at my own behalf or cautionary tale.
When you're only a story I can close at night and pull out when I want to, I can pretend you've left no scars on this forsaken body of mine
But when you text me out of no where, I find you've taken my autonomy once again.
I find that I'm once again stuck between your teeth.
Every probing text is gasoline that I swallow with a smile.
You think I turn to ice because I have frozen.
I am ice turned fire
And I'll burn the whole **** world with me if I have to.
My body is constantly in fight or flight, rigid with the possibility of springing into action.
Never quite relaxed enough to forget past sins made against me.
When people ask me, with sneers on their faces, if every adams apple I see reminds me of a fist, I tell them no. Because one of the faces that haunts me has deep brown eyes and soft skin, like my own.
She hid claws under royal blue painted nails and cinnamon scented gum.
 Nov 2017 sadgirl
blue mercury
he leans in to kiss you. his lips graze yours, a careful brush, so close but not close enough, as the two of you breathe the same air. his breath is warm, his body is warm, everything about him is so warm when you feel so cold. next to him you feel like ice. and his touch melts your cool skin, and you’re melting, melting, gone. you’re kissing him, your chapped lips on fire. your baby is the sun and yes, you know this is going burn eventually. it burns already anyway. but you’d burn into ashes for him. you’d fade for him until there was none of you left.

his gaze leaves nothing of you. you burn until you smolder every time he looks your way. he’s older than you, and it’s almost like he’s lived so many centuries before this one. and he calls you “my love” and “baby boy” and he makes you feel soft even when you’re sweat drenched, even when your skin tastes like the ocean.

you’re on fire, but it’s alright. / there’s pain in this desire, but nothing’s felt more right.

icarus, your baby is a fire.
no.
your baby is a thousand fires.
your baby is a thousand fires,
and each one is so beautiful,
that you don’t mind
how heated
things are getting.

this love is tragic, dear icarus.  and although you know it’s going to **** you, or maybe even because you know it’s going to **** you, you can’t stop loving him, and the heat radiating from his skin.
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