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sophie Dec 2020
what would they say
if they saw your firework eyes
and your candy cane skin,
jagged little lines
up and down your hips.
what if everybody knew
that their daughter was a druggie--
that the bible didn't make her grow up strong?
those crosses on the walls of every hall,
when every inch of your name has been
dragged through **** and dirt.
the rose quartz candy nightmare
on your tongue,
what would they say if it all fell apart?
after all
their daughter is reaking havoc
on her stomach
and the arch of her back.
and she's destroying herself
all in the name of euphoria.
sophie Dec 2020
but the thing
that really blows
is that i know i'll tell them everything.
i'll never dare to say it,
but it'll leak from the seams of my palms,
sewn together with thread and fabric,
tracing shapes,
weaving in and out of insanity.
my mouth will shut
and my eyes will close
but i know in my bones,
i'll bleed
       bleed
           bleed.
sophie Dec 2020
when i answer your calls,
all i can hear is static.
and i wish i could change it,
but my brain was rewired
and now i'm unable to differentiate your sentences
from the background noise that only gets louder
and louder
      and louder.
i hope i can hear you clearly again,
but every pin pricking spiral
is buzzing on my skin
like the sound of static is infecting my body--
every phrase,
     every thought,
            every whisper
will end up blocked out while i'm blacked out,
repeating over and over
in a cycle of misunderstanding.
sophie Dec 2020
it hurts so bad
and i'm trying to fix it
but creeping up my throat is the ghost of myself
waiting for my body to drop like a ragdoll,
tumbling to the ground like i weigh nothing.
this demon has infected my bone marrow,
and my teeth are rotting in my gums.
who knew it would end like this?
fighting with myself
for control over this body
that has now grown to be meaningless--
rust in my bloodstream,
pills in my mouth,
nothing but a bother to the earth.
sophie Nov 2020
starts with the sound of a flame
shooting up like the scars on your arm
take a knife to that gun
and you would only ever speak
like a whisper on the concrete,
the whimpers and the defeat.
clean up your act, kid
you look ******* ridiculous.
i'll put your skull on the market
shoot you under that dirt
in the back of your head, you're better off dead.
i'll put your head in my hands
i'll put your skin on my bones
and i'll know what it's like
to smack against the cement.
im back
sophie Jul 2020
she has bolts
lining her mouth
so she can't complain
about the taste
of the metal on her tongue,
her hips,
her waist⁠—
her eyes are glossed over
brown and blank
mom says they're beautiful
but they're faker than fake
but still
she'll sit up straight
while her gears
will shift around
they'll pierce the inside of her head
like all the bullets in her brain
maybe that's why she's so sick
maybe that's why she's so sick

;
sophie Jun 2020
watery cardboard brown eyes
blink wearily as the subway doors close.
the lights flicker as those eyes shut--
knocked out cold
like the newspaper concrete underneath sneakers.
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