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Allie Karpenske Mar 2020
guts pile over white
sheets and blankets.
i spilled them to you
last night
and you still said
i looked lovely
a black sticky stain.

how many chemicals
can your stomach handle
before you have to drown me?
how much
can you swallow?

   ~~~

you are my
cream and sugar, darling.
and it kills me when you
can't see that

i am a bitter, dark roast
cold autumn breezes
and sunless skies
but if i could keep you
breathing, my world might be
a little more alive
Allie Karpenske Mar 2020
i could talk to you
until my throat bled
from all the sharp corners
of every word;
and i'd listen to your voice
until the sun
circles the moon.

(and then some)
Allie Karpenske Feb 2020
do not wish upon
a star, the stars
are dead; the sky
is filled with corpses
Allie Karpenske Feb 2020
this little moth
is kissing up my arm
carpals, ulna, radius.
so soft, so crushable.
such a wild thing to be
flitting against my skin.

there is so much beauty
in tiny souls.

— The End —