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There are flowers springing from my bones
in places they were never planted
fracture my skull and call it apathy
I say pain is a better road than dying
alone without a will to tell;
can't you see the way my vision is blurred,
squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage
burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just
surface things, right?
the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up
pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my warm
;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage
or manage the leftover evidence;
did somebody forget their brakelights on?
I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head
rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left
in my system
system check, leaving sticky residue
behind me in my heavy concave tracks
softly trailing back
gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack
my ears ringing like a sound clap;
bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement
things we don't want to lack,
leave the last stack
where I can mull over the aftermath
digging graves for those who are still alive,
burn my skin tonight
burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive
still kicking like the second round
the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time
don't let me out of the house tonight,
*** knows what I might find.
I think that's the first burst of inspiration I've had in a while.
You have been
a very hungry caterpillar
chewing your way
through my heart

fleshy and beating
the surrounding blood
was not enough,
you had to keep going

chomping through
arteries and veins and valves,
chomp chomp
thump thump

I weep with joy
to be chosen by
such a beautiful creature
of nature

to devour my ****** *****,
as though red were the new green,
lapping at the capillaries:
I am a fountain for you alone

you tickle me with your spindly legs,
humour is my favourite quality of yours:
you have me
thump thump

in time with the laughter,
crying at the sheer serenity of it
Oh! how you have devoted yourself
to me and me alone

chomp chomp
thump thump

what more could I ask for than this,
bliss? I am weak with it -

you carry on, until
I cannot laugh anymore,
you have eaten my heart whole.
If you see me out with makeup on
Pray for me.

If I am out with lips stained hues
Of poisoned berries and rotted fruit
And skin so like an airbrushed doll
You wonder if I am real at all
If the gleams of sparkles under my eyes
Catch the light and make you blind
If my wings take flight in the wind
And my lashes drip ink like a sin
Pray for me.

Because the color on my lips is there
So I don’t forget my voice.
And a porcelain face can smile as long
As its cracks are covered with paint.
And the glitter alit on my cheeks
Covers the bags of too little sleep
(when my soul is so tired I just want to cry
it’s nice to feel pretty with something that shines.)

So pray for me
Because today, I have put up my walls
My heart is down and I am small
My makeup is not a show for you
It’s a reminder to me that I’m visible too.
I was always told
self-harm was a
cry for help, not
true self-harm
is pain one has
to have to feel
alive when I was
a Kid through
the abuse I took to
would slash my
wrist to see the
blood to feel the
pain, not a cry
for help but to
feel the pain and
feel alive
Self-harm was pain I needed to feel  alive
Baby, take a look at the mess you just made
Shattered windows shattered bones
Around this place
And the holes you made and left on my chest
Of love keep on flooding this place

Theres nothing left for me around this bed
Waking up by your side is waking up and it’s still night
I asked for older and rotten is what I got

Baby, take a look at our nuclear mistakes
We launched missiles and fired tanks
We were toxic we were flame
I lost my heart fighting to stay

Our battle ends in the Mountain of Carnage
And with blood-stained clothes and prayers from last words I begged
I begged to one day grow a heart back in my chest
Instead I got seconds that turned into minutes and minutes that turned into hours

But the day finally came
With no heartbeat I woke
And inhaling I stood
I wasn’t lucky to be alive
I just wanted my life back in my hands
Asante' 4d
It was a beautiful moment
Of dissatisfaction.
One where she realized
Does not equate
With serenity.
That stagnancy
Does not yield joy.
So she moved,
Not only her feet.
She moved mountains.
The earth quaked beneath her,
And flowers bloomed
In every *****.
And this,
She thought,
THIS is how it feels
To be alive
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