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triggerword Dec 2019
it’s pretty up on the eleventh floor
the better to fling myself from
and if they ask
just say I was trying to fly away
it’s a long way down from rock bottom
triggerword Jul 21
if ever there was a cure
for the careless whirling dervish
for lemonade
for a song before sleep
it was in the light that we learned to love the darkness
you could not blame us
we could not have known
what was to come
now we have nowhere to run
triggerword Sep 6
running away
for the sake of your story
you’d come to the end of your tether
you’d dried to bone and corn husk
so, you come to spirit me away
in the middle of my sunken daydream
and I let you
for the conquest’s not yet weary
and I’ve forgotten how to breathe
anything but bills
one sits for too long in a corner,
they’re bound to catch alight
triggerword Jun 2020
remember the twisted kid
mutilating dolls in boredom
remember the unfaithful wife
the guy with the confessional punchcard
the casual narcissist steeped in denial
the see-through sycophant
I am them
they are me
pain can’t always be poetic
and I just can’t be expected to discriminate
triggerword Oct 2019
they put my grandmother in a box
and strangers came to mourn
shedding tears too weak to taste
they better burn me when I go
triggerword Mar 2020
I can only hope you’re still out there
dying under the same sun I see
triggerword Aug 19
to whom it may concern,
I only love you if you’re still indifferent
forgive me if I’m going in circles
I’m just too comfortable to want a cure
triggerword Mar 2020
my first kiss was a druggy pig
stuck in an anti-wedding dress
pinning me down to undressed mattresses
waif-like little insect I was
hope to be
triggerword Feb 2020
there are worse things than heartbreak
but there’s nothing better
triggerword Apr 27
the way that children run
fleeing the crest of a wave
even in their most invincible state
they couldn’t be touched by the depths
and so it goes
I notice their eager screams of delight
striding toward the thing they most dread
the man with spear in hand
claiming the dirt beneath his feet
does he know it will someday claim him?
I’ve come to crave the fragility of it all
triggerword Sep 2019
my mother never taught me how to fly
because ladies don’t use their wings
and neither do I
triggerword Aug 13
and so, it was only natural
it was only fitting
for him to come for me on a Tuesday night
in the middle of a sentence that,
though unremarkable,
was not yet done
and so, I was remembered as a fragment
all the little pieces of me
inside the people who’d once loved me, who’d called me friend,
who’d sang me lullabies
little pieces tinted blue
then, inevitably, undeservedly rose
no martyr
no miracle
perhaps death thought me a ******,
begging for him
he only took me when my back was turned
triggerword Nov 2019
i don’t believe in the god that told me he loved me...

and then let me burn
triggerword Jul 21
the chances were slimmer
than sedentary average joseph
clamoring above car horns
in the streets
on the streets
under the streets
as lust stains sheets
and calls itself love
were we always mistaken?
these songs that all sound the same
these meager scrawls on canvas
these silver screens
fade to red
and you pray to the sky
so that this last word still to come
so that it might be your masterpiece
so that you need never be forgotten
triggerword Apr 27
but there’s nothing wrong
with falling asleep to the symphony

most people only live when they’re told to
triggerword Aug 19
I’m writing a eulogy
for a man I never knew
it just had to be me
never mind he lived across the ocean
never mind I hadn’t seen him in 15 years
who better to conjure such a man?
a man who runs away from home
a man whose indifference disguises his fear
whose hatred hides his love
a man so precariously positioned
who doesn’t so much care for the taste of wine as he does the effect
it just had to be me
15 years is long enough
to know a ghost you’ve never missed
it has to be me
it’s me
triggerword Jun 2020
considerate little fellow
crushing sandcastles underfoot
before the tide can take them
triggerword Nov 2019
no one thought to ask the little girls why  they did it
why they cut and burned
why they starved and retched
and otherwise mutilated themselves
because they were so beautiful
and didn’t they know?
but they never asked us
not outright
we knew what we had to do
and we didn’t wonder why
we were just slaying the monsters slowly
and that was more beautiful than we could ever be

— The End —