he is a tattered heart with blood-stained teeth. he needs you to be silk sheets and a pink sunrise, but you are neither of those things. rather, you are canvas constructed of guilt and hot desire. he ruins his ****** hands down your neck, your *******, your thighs. you learn to love the taste of all the hurt he's caused because it's

all for you.

he needs you to be a proper woman, strong and dignified with rose petal cheeks and a bounteous womb, but you are nothing more than a glutton, consuming every spewed whimper born through impatient fingers grasping at his royal bones. you dig your nails into his flesh, you burn constellations into his back, you make sure his eyes are closed.

you are nothing that he needs, but you are everything right now. you wear the revelation like a drunken king adorns a crown: with pride, with arrogance, without feeling its weight. you straddle his waist and sink onto a throne made for a worthier queen. there is red hot blood in his veins, golden ichor in yours—you are not of the same world. the stars rattle when he breathes your name.

they die out when he considers how you are not the one they should be burning for.

DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!

i am ravishing, but i am ruinous.
my bones are connected by chaos,
my muscles by vengeance, my
teeth by blood—i am not a sight
to behold, i am a watercolor left
to rot.

the gods gaze upon me and hang
their heads in shame, in chagrin,
in white hot resentment. i am
medusa with peony lips and a
treasonous grin—there is beauty
in this cataclysm even aphrodite
cannot touch.

DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!

destruction can be found in the
hell between my hips, in crevices
where you do not belong. please,
stay back, or i will feast upon the
warmth in your chest, the grace
on your tongue, the light that's
in your heart.

DON'T GET TOO CLOSE!

but you kiss me anyway and you
taste like reparation. oh, my baby,
i cannot get enough. you wilt and
wither under my touch and i carry
you across galaxies.

you invite me to taste you and i
swallow you whole instead. i can
learn to live with the guilt in my
throat because it's more bearable
than feeling completely

alone.

my fault
“well, what were you wearing?”
my fault
“did you not fight back?”
my fault
“you should have screamed"
my fault
"why did you wait to tell anyone?"
my fault
"it just means he thought you were pretty"
my fault
     my fault
           my fault
                 my fault
                       my fault
                             YOUR FAULT.

god is dead; his body's in the attic
i didn't do it, though everybody's at it
this isn't blasphemy, it's freedom from fanatics
all that dark sky, light leaks where we cracked it

don't pray, your palms cannot clasp the chasm of your heart
your redemption's only received if your sorrow's sketched in art
frame it, mail it, burn it; give your love a fresh start
you don't owe apologies to god, only who you've wronged

you didn't need to cry yourself to sleep
all your words could be ours to keep
what you can't admit, i know it's deep
but ignoring the wound will make it seep

there's no shame when mistakes are confessed
i'll forgive you once the crime's addressed
but keep lying to me? lies will be undressed
the world a ****** to the guilt you've repressed

Of darkest obsidian like sharp shards the guilts upon my soul.
Deeply cut the wounds I carry that now make me less than whole.
By choice and deed I know who it is that I have hurt and wronged.
Through consequence of choice I made, my torture has belonged.
A price I paid and yet payment can never recompense.
As soul is tattered in self loathing and I am bereft of all defence.
There is no way to make amends or make a penance for my deeds.
My life has no more meaning and my soul eternally yet bleeds.
I cannot ask forgiveness and of salvation there is none.
For all the things I chose in selfishness, will never be undone.
Maybe priest or God will absolve me by the offering of some chant.
But despise my heart and soul, to forgive myself I cant.