you have cheated me—
and now i am going to skin you alive .
.

forgotten ,
i am desperate to be swallowed whole
as you look right through me
like a window,

in greens and grays...
i could be rotting,
d y i n g .
.

and i know you would still not see
me whole .
.
.

so ,
am i just a walking corpse
to you ?

my face
merely
unrecognizable flesh?

eyes like little pearls ,
the sky is pink and i can’t even cry ...
and still you are standing
t a l l .
            .
              .

but even invisible,
i know i can still hold a knife and
i can still know
rage.

and you can still pretend that i don’t exist ,
praying
that i never try to kill you.
.
someone didn’t acknowledge me and it broke something deep in my heart and soul. i am out for blood and it’s literally not funny anymore.
god must’ve made me , strictly
to be broken open —

and
you look at me with such innocent eyes ,
but
i know you see
right through
me ,,

so
tell me , do you want me to
strip ?

please you?

there’s a hunger in your voice
and i know i’ve heard it
before —

you
are like everyone and
everyone likes
me

but i do not falter ,
and i will never, ever break,

because
every time i touch myself,
god gets on his
knees .
.
Ive been really interested in erotic poetry lately and have been trying to write more of it, but every time I try I get really embarrassed. The title of this poem and ending lines I wrote a long time ago, and I’d been meaning to write the rest of it because I loved the concept so much but just never wrote something that fit. Yesterday I met a way too friendly man at my restaurant and it scared me, so this is about him. I wrote a raunchier version too but I don’t think it’s as good.
cait-cait Aug 4
love has buried me ,
and i am like an
                           ache.

but
you were fire
and
i was ice —

and there were mountains
in between us,
                         gods
.

so when you buried me ,
i
let myself die ,

and you did not ache.
did not
             even
                      cry.
.
for renny, my sweet angel. rest well.
cait-cait Jul 26
i hate you,
i think, as you shoot me to death.

standing above me with a gun in my face

you feel
rage like undissolved sugar in
warm milk -
and
there’s blood on the floor and
then there’s me
,
                          
                          dying and almost dead,
but
you left my eyes open ,
and i know
you forgot the murder weapon:

so i’m going to take it with me.

one day ,

i’m going to heal ,
and i’m going to remember —

you took my gun ,
took all my bullets
                                too .

and i still won’t ever shoot back.
im actually in japan right now! Having the time of my life lmfao!! Staying in a suburb of Tokyo with my previous host family doing mundane stuff... it’s great! This poem is inspired by what my friend said to me after I sent her a happy pic of me... basically told me I looked out of place and was wrong for enjoying myself. It made me feel terrible and like shit. Anyways long story but something happened and she left our group chat and I didn’t notice!! But now she joined again and won’t tell me why she left and I think it’s because she knows she fucked up. Some people’s punishments are just being themselves. Sorry for the long description. Happy summer everyone!!
cait-cait Jul 14
death is a tiny girl in pink —
with yellow hair
                          and stick legs -

coming out at twilight , she
knocks
on your door with her claws in a fist
                                and
smiles wide at you
from the
dark.
          .
            .

a wolf in sheeps hide ,
but
she is only
a
sheep
          (not even)

and
she wants to hold your hand .
.
I’ve been playing a lot of love Nikki recently which helped develop this but it was really inspired by another poem I read where they described death as a little girl who listens to the world from underneath the ground
cait-cait Jul 9
i might as well just devour you ,
now that you’ve
                           shredded my stomach
and laughed .
                        .

i never would’ve guessed
that
you
would take
a knife to my heart ,
and then rev up an engine —

a chain.

but
im sick of looking at your face ,
sick of
thinking of you ,

                           and
                                  sick of smiling
from my grave.
.

i guess we can say
you stole that from me too .

but
you are proof ,
that
even demons need to eat —

and this one
is very ,
             very
hungry.
inspired by my best friend stopdoopy’s amazing post breakup love poetry, i decided to be violent for them. I wanted it to have more swear words but it just didn’t work out. the opening line was originall different. Also, happy birthday to me!
cait-cait Jul 4
i.

ill snap the necks of everyone
you love
like little birds
outside a
nest

ii.

god held my hands as he plucked me
from the sky ,
and told me i was no longer
an angel .
.

iii.

i pop pink pills from pink
bottles , and
set things on fire.

you dont look me in the eyes
anymore ,
even though i smile.
im trying to experiment with different styles. This was inspired by the feeling of loving someone better than you and being angry about it and the video game little inferno.
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