Her breath circles on my tongue Before falling into my blood, And the chemistry is the same As alcohol to flame. She is bound to burn me down To nothing more than desires That I am ill equipped to resist...
Seeded into my nights, Your essence claims me; Hidden in my shadow, Your fists find purchase On peach shaded skin. When you feel yourself Losing your grip, Fingers morph into claws, Piercing my exposed flesh Until my moonlite profile Is brushed in heavy strokes Of ferric crimson.
You were coloring in my lights, Drenching a binary world A pallet of contradictions. Unbalanced, indiscriminate yellow, Stoplights shaded evergreen, And as your lips buzzed my name, I felt the edges of a wave That promised to dye My timid October orange Every variant of the red Lurking in my veins.
My blood is fighting against me. I can feel it squirm throughout the day, a sharpness that begs for reciprocation. I’m burning up all of my second chances for just a few moments of relief. It’s nothing new, waking up to dried lengths of crimson. It’s nothing new. ~And yet~ I take some solace in … Continue reading “I started smoking recently. I hate the taste, but I crave their warmth, and I have to admit…they make 2AM feel a lot less lonely.”
Breathing in these embers, my esophagus melts like candle wax, and these things I need to get off my chest remain buried in my lungs. They fight for a release, so they worm their way through my veins. I can feel them crawling, a sick itch beneath my skin, sending my sense of touch into … Continue reading “This may sound obvious to some, but you don’t have to say that you’re okay when you aren’t okay.”
She reminds you of birthday cake and lavender hand soap. Her smile contains hints of vanilla summers and cinnamon winter's. She speaks, and it sounds like the popping of fresh movie theater popcorn and the fizzling of a perfectly topped off cup of Coca-Cola. You hold her hand, and warmth rushes through your body like … Continue reading I’m tired of seeing things that existed before you now as nothing else but reminders of you. I can’t erase you…but I’d give anything to have those things back, without you..
It’s crazy, the things you’ll miss about a person. You’d think, being raised in the hyper-sexual culture that is the twenty-tens, the thing people would miss most is the sex. One glance at the top Apps for all smartphones and you’d find all the evidence you’d need to prove that thesis correct. So yes, having … Continue reading I’ve never written anything while sitting in a coffee shop, mainly because I don’t drink coffee, but also due to my inability to keep my composure while putting any of my thoughts to paper.
My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?
I want to live in a place where my heart feels...weightless. I want to know the type of hug that feels warm, like summer air against your skin. I want to find myself lost in thoughts of fireworks and pancake breakfasts, snowball fights in January and chocolate filled Halloweens. I want to look forward to … Continue reading On clear nights I stare at the sky and make a wish to those billion year old lights, and it’s the same wish every single time.
I’ve been here before; That point where my wrist twists at the touch of pen to paper. My body yearns for a release into words, For that is the only time I’ve ever felt..whole. Yet, once before, this very same stutter did occur. I was falling, drowning, every other analogy for dead on my feet. … Continue reading If I was never aiming to accomplish anything, then by definition I couldn’t fail, right? I guess logic isn’t one of my strong suits.
That little light from your lampshade 