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Literature Text
words are shadows. our
sooty followers, b(l)ack
stabbers
deeper in hopes
her name will fly
frantic from your lips
words are wounds, clumsy
self-scars &
you are the penknife in my right hand
sooty followers, b(l)ack
stabbers
- willing captives: we ache for abuse
deeper in hopes
her name will fly
frantic from your lips
- enslaved to your inattention
words are wounds, clumsy
self-scars &
you are the penknife in my right hand
Literature
ambivalence
it seems that I have lost
my senses,
dripping corduroy blue:
a glass of condescension
and I'll deny everything you've
said.
somewhere between the pastry paint
and the religious
beads of sweat
from your lips to your navel
I've trapped myself
in a cage I lost the keys to.
this is where insanity begins:
too much attention
wasted on the wallpaper
and hours spent meeting anything
but your eyes.
as i'm cradled in the circulation
within alcoholic corks
and blue headlights
your voice tapping at my senses,
your lips replacing mine.
the secret is that I cannot do enough screaming
to drown you out
and I can't be quiet enough
to
Literature
deconstructing in your sighs
i
it’s not like they said it would be easy.
when you look at me
open-mouthed and dewey-eyed,
negligent; and your laughter
slurs together like runoff sewage,
and your voice is drowning in
a certain kind of sadness, the one
reserved for the faults
we never asked for; and you sigh,
heavy, like I am back sitting in
your throat between your adam’s apple
and the truths you dare not speak;
you pity me.
ii
it’s that very same weakness which
delivered me naked and trembling
into the skin of a person
I never was; pity
does not require action, disappointment
does not take away from the burning human need
to overcome oneself. I&rsq
Literature
this is now
that was then:
i muttered your name while his hand was down my dress.
told him i couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't
but he kissed away my syllables as the absence ate away at my heart and soul
this is now:
i miss you when brief flashes of nostalgia
overwhelm and contort my senses,
but you don't deserve it
that was then:
you were my daily routine, ranking higher than breathing
i wanted to inhale you like the cigarettes you regularly smoked
pledged forever and always and carved your name behind my eyelids
"i love you", "ok".
i should have known it was never going
to be okay.
this is now:
you cross my mind from time to time,
and i
Suggested Collections
swamp water
dead flies
your eyes
rot.
"pain is just a simple compromise"
-misguided ghosts, paramore
dead flies
your eyes
rot.
"pain is just a simple compromise"
-misguided ghosts, paramore
© 2012 - 2024 londonrey
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