dead air hangs heaviest on phone calls cut short the static hummed like an ancient hornets nest in my head deep imprints left from landline buttons on my cheek i thought if i pressed hard enough i could pretend plastic resembled the feeling of his face against mine i thought if i pressed hard enough i could pretend the static sounded like his voice in my ear
he told me once that he liked my skin but what he meant is that he liked it better on the floor i would have never guessed how quickly hungry hands could eat me alive but i wanted their starvation to be my salvation i always knew i was a better window than a wall but I didn’t know how easy it was to see through me
seven syllables like bee stings my throat began to swell like his words themselves were anaphylactic and as i began to see stars i pretended i was in shock he left me like a bullet exits a body and i guess that’s what i get for loving a loaded gun but I’ve always been known to be the first to pull the trigger roulette was just a way to pass the time between waking and sleeping
i was a phantom of longing and lament i missed his hands even when they were around my neck i wasn’t a woman i was shades of blue and violet and unwarrented violence
the perverse pleasure of pain left like a malady in my mind that spread across my nervous system and seeped its way into my bone marrow the only chemo i could find were empty beds and dark rooms indiscriminately i handed myself to the radiation of sterile hands and nameless faces i wanted them to rearrange my molecules or at least help me shed the skin he had liked so much
etched into my eyelids in glowing persistence were the words he left me with i hung onto them, i gripped them tightly, white knuckled desperation i clung to the sound of your voice rattling like a chain link fence in my mind “you will never be enough” i wanted so badly for you to be the cure i made myself love-sick **** and limerence felt like love even when the landline went dead i realized that corpses have a funny way of staying just alive enough to get through the day
I wrote a poem about you again. You wouldn't leave my head and when it was 4am laying awake i was drowning in the feeling of love. Just as all the love songs suddenly made sense, suddenly all the words I wrote where about you. I promise this will be The last words I'll write about you. Goodbye.
Suffocate me with your eyes Be the cause of my glorious demise **** me softly, save your breath There is nothing in you I regret
Sometimes I forget to breathe Sometimes I cannot speak I lose myself in you all at once You make me lose my mind, I'm insane How do you destroy me so beautifully? Why do you break me? What is it in each other that we find? Why is it you find in me your delight?
Suffocate me with your eyes Don't stop me, let me die **** me softly, use that breath There is nothing I don't regret.
You make me unable to breathe With you around, I cannot speak I lose myself along the way You lead me along the path and before you know it, I'm gone I'm insane How do you destroy me in such a brilliant way? Why do you break me to suit you? What is it that, in me, you seem to like? Why is it you delight in my pain?
Suffocate me with your eyes Stop me in my tracks, let me cease **** me softly with feather-light breath Press those lips close to this skin So that there will be nothing I will regret.
I'm unable to breathe I cannot speak You make me so unbearably weak I've lost myself, and I've found you instead Have I gone completely insane? Maybe you can exist in my stead I feel insane Maybe you should just leave me to break To exist in this gory glory Stop this heart, halt these thoughts Delight in my ache Find joy in my spite And, in the end, Love me with all of your might.
I feel like that's a question we never truly get the answer to.
What is Love and why do we depend on it so dearly, is it a true experience or is it just a pure figment of our imagination. I've been asking myself this question most of my life considering I'd never seen it up close, I often like to think love is that feeling you got as a child when your mother would give you kisses for no reason, or the feeling you once had when you first got introduced to chocolate chip pancakes.
Maybe love is summer water on a beach at sunset, the fresh breeze brushing up against your warm flushing cheeks, your toes buried in the sand.
Mountain flower , She kept on flowering, She gave the green grass utmost flowering, She kept on flowering Onto the rocks of the mountain She grew and glowed Away from the shades of darkness She ran and rest at the shades of light. With the rock ahead , she turned, With the baking sun She longed for the cool shade under the vine ,climbing on another vine. She ogled like a seductive goddess , Like boiling water she kept boiling. Mountain flower.