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Allison Wolf Oct 2019
Four simultaneous calls unknown number familiar area code
I clicked all the necessary buttons to block you yet still your voice
penetrated my messages made my entire body contract into a fraction
of myself I tried to delete them but they never stop

I pleaded with my mom over salted mall pretzels to help her
understand why I wanted a restraining order against you without letting it slip
that your hand had slipped across my face before but secret scars
faded without photographic proof it was you
'there isn't enough evidence against him'

I did planks in thirty second intervals until I felt remnants
of when you pushed me too hard into the freshly mopped floors
wine splattered counters I lie awake listening for a motorcycle
that I am almost certain will never come roaring around the corner
I can't be sure if you ever watched me input the new garage code

I am suffocated by the thought of you I hardly remember which arm
is tattooed with what you're a reoccurring tumor I can't get perfect margins on
I beg myself to cut out the malignancies you have seeded once again
but it doesn't work
it never works.
June 24, 2019
12:00:09 AM
This heart is going to stop.


It may be a scarry sound next to a pub,
A silent scattershot in a shop to rob,
An exciting smell in a chemic lab,
Or a short nap in a taxi cab.


Only God knows how it will end,
Passing through that particular land.


But indeed this heart is about to cease.


It is the keen and slow pain that nobody sees,
The heavy carelessness bringing no ease,
The fast heart-beaten minutes I lose,
My non-existent ecography's hues.


Only God knows how it ends,
While I'm passing through all these lands.
18.01.2018
Brianna Sep 2019
The anatomy of ones heart seems complicated and intense.
The valves and the tubes and the scars from time taking its toll.
The blood and the veins helping to keep one alive.
The memories it holds and the heartbreak it endures and thrives from over and over again.

But the anatomy of my heart is simple.
It’s filled with trees billowing and waving in the wind.
It has salt water from the bluest oceans flowing through the veins keeping me afloat with summer dreams.
It has been slowly and faster in the throes of passion and in the woes of pain.
It has shown me that through adventure and wonder I can keep myself alive.

So tell me... how does the anatomy of your heart look?
Starry Aug 2019
A disembodied brain
Full of squirrls
My brain
As i look
At this tree
For it amuses me
Not all trees do.
Nigdaw Aug 2019
You pull me apart
Like petals from a flower,
Love me, love me not
Tearing at my very being,
Until my innards are exposed
For all the world to see,
But no beauty in my nakedness,
Just exposure
Of my anatomy.
King Mar 2019
Hi. My name is Michael, and if you’re reading this then please share it. On January 5th something strange happened to me. I’m not the strange type of person at all, I have a seemingly normal and average life that I’ve been living. Im single, I work a small yet suitable office job, I have a caring family, I spend my free time with friends or putting puzzles together, occasionally watching TV.. I’m sure the following details have bored you, but I’ve been urged to put down all I know.
As for what has happened.. January 5th, it was a weekday and I woke up in order to get ready for work just like I do every day. I got out of bed, brushed my hair with a comb, brushed my teeth, and put on my khakis and dress shirt.. yet when I rolled up my sleeves I saw a black dotted line over a small space on my left wrist. This was the start of these strange occurrences. The line was like sharpie, some non erasable marker that had gotten to my wrist somehow. I had no memory or clue to where it came from, yet it was there. At the time I didn’t think much of it so I went on with my day. The strangeness happened yet again the next day when I woke up.. I did the same thing as the last day, yet again when I went to roll up my sleeves I noticed the dotted line was gone.. in its place was an extremely thin scar. As soon as I touched it, just a graze from my thumb, it hurt.. the scar had me extremely concerned but what was even more concerning was the fact that it hurt! I convinced myself so eagerly it was ok! Its fine.. I just.. I didn’t know where the scar had came from! I still don’t! It baffles me and I think about it so so often.. anyways. I was convinced it was a weird sprain, so I made a small brace out of some bandage and I decided to head to work, arriving late which was terrible on my average record. I couldn’t even begin to think that day, it was as if my mind was fogged with questions, theories, concerns and what to do? Who gets into a situation like this? Yet again, I convinced myself it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be..
Then I went home, I went to bed and woke up the next day. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t breath when I saw how bad of shape my wrist was, it was painted with black and blue and looked sickly.. I was so distraught, I yelped in my one person apartment before I cried. Never had I been more scared for what had happened to me! Until of course.. I noticed the dotted lines on my right wrist. That was what killed me. I felt like I was going insane, I couldn’t think for atleast half an hour as I was practically paralyzed with fear of what was happening! I didn’t want to be without two working hands..
So with my right hand still working I left to the hospital, I drove fast, as fast as I could while shaking.. I swear the doctors thought I was there for mental treatment when I first approached then blabbering on how something was coming to scar my wrist, on how I needed the line removed.. yet I was calmed as they took me to get an xray of my worse wrist. They kept me in a room afterwards, I waited 3 hours before a shy doctor came in slowly.. he seemed distraught, which didn’t help my situation at all. “Mr. Dickenson…” he said softly, as if trying to calm me before revealing the neighbor ran over my cat, or my mom couldn’t get me that new console.. “I’m sorry to say this, but from the xrays we have it appears that there is excess blood in your wrist from.. well.. one of the bones in your wrist is.. gone.” He said calmly, my stomach dropped and my eyes widened. What the hell? How the hell? I laughed at first as he showed me the xrays before I explained to him dreadfully how it had to have happened. It HAD to have been in my sleep! The lines!! I didn’t understand. He agreed he would keep me for the next few nights to assess my situation. I was lucky that he was as baffled as me..
So I spent my night in the hospital, and as it can be assumed.. there was indeed a scar on my right wrist, and my left had only been getting worse, more painful, more bruised.. I cried as I saw my situation, something had stolen parts of me.. hell I cant even move my right wrist.. I’ve been painfully jotting this all down with a faulty left wrist, that feels like mush where my bone was stolen. I woke up crying as the doctor came in to take me to get more xrays.. three bones from my right wrist had been stolen. The funny thing? I was in the hospital all night. Me and this doctor checked everything to find any forced entries, we checked security cameras to find nothing had been on them.. I don’t know what this is, this ghost, or disease, or hell whatever is happening to me!! What I know is that I’ve checked my body, again, and tomorrow I will die.. these rotten lines made their mark right where the doctor had said my heart is. He checked and as of now it’s still beating.. I’ve called my parents and friends, and sadly they don’t believe me much. Who would? Without proof like the doctor has I sound insane. I’m writing this because maybe you can escape it. Maybe you’ll be able to seek help when you first see the lines.. because I’ve read stories like this. These ghosts. These demons.. these diseases… they never stop after patient zero. Check your wrists before you go to bed tonight, and when you wake up. I would hate to have someone miss a sign.
I’m in watch now. They have cameras in my hospital room to try and catch it better this time. I’ll continue this if I don’t die tonight.
(Last entry, January 8th)
Chris Lazzaro Feb 2019
Wandering under
woodland leaves,
my mind confined
to winding suture lines.
Paths of pink nerve tissue
cherry blossom trees,
dendrite branches wave
in a heavy breeze.
Myline bark, an axon stump,
rooted contents of my skull
continuously growing,
a tangled plexus of
neural connections.
Twisting, turning,
a knotted blockage.
Pathways, rippled in roots,
a crossing synaptic stoppage.
A suffocating strangle,
choking corpus callosum
decaying mangle.
Branches atrophy,
shrivel and scar.
Root terminals suffer
hormonal harm.
Forest trails quick fainting
when lost in overthinking.
blushing prince Jan 2019
a swollen finger rising to the occasion
rising to the size of a grape, purple
bloated like a stuffed pocket or pregnant chicken
green oozing out like the slime i got from the museum and the smell of rubber and plastic following me in my sleep

a ghost by the window slipping into my thumb and biting pain
the numb pressure of muscle tissue ripping
the phantom claws out and shouts that women are debris
swamps with lost metal buried at the bottom if you dig long enough the days become one and their hair consumes you whole

i argue with the shadow, threaten that this bruise will burst and blood with meet alcohol, an antibiotic fever dream
it stares at me defiant, like a giant pulverizing a village
my fingers wrestle and before the abscess can pop
the fingerprints unravel until i am nothing but thread
a coil at the bottom of the floor
a dress to be sewn in a bedroom
the shadow stand up and fits her bones into the fibers, a bride in white
the thumb hurts no more
a gross anatomy dissection
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