Halsey Knows You Well by little-supernova, literature
Literature
Halsey Knows You Well
i can't yet say it
but i can damn well sing it
two thousand different ways
say you what you mean to me
in the breaths between what words i harmonize
i'm sorry i can't say it
because it's not true for all of me yet
and i seldom ever lie
give me some time
to catch up with the part of me that sings
because she knows
she knows you
she knows you better than any song
she knows the curve of your lashes by heart
and that's all fine and well
until you've cried for the first time in years
and she won't let you look away
she won't let you hide that one thing from her
because she thinks one thing means everything
and you can't disagree
the me that sin
are you happy with yourself?
if not, then follow me
i will hand you a potion
will not tell you what will happen
because somewhere in that blackened heart,
you know - you know you will
swell up six times your human size
grow two more sets of arms to seize more love with
hooves to leave the ones who really know you in the dust
double-edged horns to hurt yourself more than you hurt others
claws to dig into the earth, proof you will never change
oh darling i will change you
it is the truest pain i know - the pain of learning you
have taken everything for granted and i
will tear asunder the persona you so quietly molded
break open your hubric r
i am
inadequate,
a love song that's missing its verses
chorus too benign to remember,
you'll never hear me over the orchestra
of the music that you make with him.
i am
incomplete:
i can only give you half a stained glass window
even i don't know what i really feel
i don't know what pieces to use
do i use green for your eyes? do i use pink for the
lighting in which i've always seen you? or do i
use burgundy, for the poisonous envy that has drowned me,
speech thinned by wine and secondary school stress?
yet in your eyes
i am more than adequate
i am made terribly complete by him
and all you can hope for is a sliver of my time
in all actuality
The New Thursday Nights by little-supernova, literature
Literature
The New Thursday Nights
thursday's nightly routine includes
me: standing in the rain
him: standing in the flame
or he's in the shower with me
and he's just as high
"more things that have fallen for you
in this world
than just H20"
and every moment is
unsolicited touch
ing, touching me
"thanks for the intention" she says
voice so small you'd need tweezers to holdOH
NO YOU JUST DROPPED IT
there she goes, lost goodbye
eyes drawn close and dark with the things
she swallows but she cannot digest
loaded down with rocks, it's getting hard to
get up and down the stairs 4+ times a day
and it was hard enough before when she was just hopeful
all that glimmers is not pyrite
all that loves cannot be you
///
in the beginning, there was a mommy
whose protection killed and care soured
but her kitten grew in limb and mind
and the mommy's cage strained to hold her bones
until the steel broke against the force of such a
fierce laugh
born of a
soft growl
///
in the end, "you are my son" was not enough
to excuse the trespasses he had committed --
the hurtful remarks, the physical abrasions
could not all be apologized away
bruises don't wash out
and i couldn't just let you give him a pass
because you had come out better from it
because you had learned to disregard him
because he is you
daggers / shielded by little-supernova, literature
Literature
daggers / shielded
cold stare
warm embrace
she has a confusing resting bitchface
is she mad sad happy perplexed who knows
but you can bet that when she fixates on you
on the real you, the one inside that rarely gets seen
or sought out, or listened to,
you best believe that the real you experiences
the most nerve-wracking shiver
she'll stop you in your tracks
frozen
her hands know just how to press against your skin
warm to the touch, it almost burns right through you
to the core - she has that way of
holding you up, holding you still, yet
making sure you're still standing on your own two feet
her heart beats, blood pumping through her
almost through you
s
you bump into my dreams and
i call you out; DECLARE YOURSELF
i know there's something wrong, something
no one else can see, no one else can be
what i am, creator and lover
master of my own universe
of my own mind
but that i means i must be brahma
shiva and vishnu - what is borne of me
will be protected and inevitably
destroyed by me
that is love: to build you up and break you down
in fits of inspiration
i see the possibility and it takes hold of me
i am the conduit for the everything and nothing
exuding orgone energy
i am but the inside of the outside
if you bump into me, i'll shake some
but you cannot break what you do not understand
he cried himself out into your letter
purple notebook dedicated to a heartfelt plea
six months after we tumbled heart over head
but now
a year later
he still cries when she sings
"in another life, i would make you stay"
tear stained face under my fingers
arms are all i can offer
i just want you to know
i cry for what you two could have been
i cry too
i am the broken mirror:
fragments of myself, but all the same
whatever you want to see
aka yourself
complete with bruised eyes and bloody knuckles
i can only be as dangerous as you have made me
and i was lucky you had a shotgun in mind
love and evolution by DamagedHomewrecker, literature
Literature
love and evolution
love is evolution.
the apartment is a mess
just as my bones are
aching and wilting
daffodils and blood
spill my teeth across the carpet
you were there
when i was empty
you were there
when i was dark
but then
you were the reason
i was empty
you were the reason
i was dark
wolfborne. mooneroded. shadowgiver.
tuck your memory
behind the pain
and i am grey.
evolution sometimes still leads to extinction.
i have to bury you. i have to live in this failure for a little bit. the way the world erodes against my bones. i am a witch. a mournful cackle on the craters of the moon. how the wind swept up the stars and slayed them across the bruise of sky. i have to bury you and your children. i have to dig a hole in the earth. get some dirt under my nails. let a life once loved, once happy, become a fossil. i have to pour you and your children into the ground. like cement. i have to let you go. i have to let me go. i am no longer the woman with a marilyn smile and diamond blue eyes and hawk giggle. i need to become someone new. evolve. grow. hurt. try.
run, rabbit, run
why are you always looking back
you're never late
until you are
bloodshot worried eyes and radio silence
your throat is thick
lacerations
favorite songs thumping through your veins
loud. it's too loud.
even when it's not
empty your stomach
lean back on your wrists
your heart is guilty
lacerations
his voice scarred
you want this. you want me.
don't blame me for what you want.
run, rabbit, run
don't keep looking back
it was all perfect
until it wasn't.
it doesn't matter that everything was perfect. if you could erase that last hour, you would go back, pluck out your eyes, unsee the pain, deafen your ears to the guilt, focus on your favorite songs coming from his mouth, how his hand felt on your thigh in the car, how he smiled at you while he strummed the guitar, how he wanted to be with you, how you laughed and easily followed him into the bedroom, stripped and unplugged, vulnerable and wanting the beat and pound of your heart, the tangle of legs, the river of mouths, and then. everything. s.t.o.p.p.e.d. and you had a choice. and he had a choice. and you put on your dress. and you grabbed y
Matchsticks for a skeleton. I still reach for your ribs at 3 in the morning. It’s a punch in the guts. Disembowel me. Leave my entrails for the vultures. No. The cowardly coyotes. She is still sitting beside me. Worse than a ghost. Haunted by the living. Her thick hips. Her goblin smile. Her honeymoon hands. Sniveling rodent. Twitch of whiskers. You love her. Love her louder than you ever loved me.
Matchsticks for a skeleton. I still reach for your heart at 3 in the morning. It’s a punch in the face. Black my eyes. Steal my tears. Leave my salt for the rats. No. The rattling roaches. I wish you were still sitting beside me. Worse
my lover crushed the budding fruit in me
which ran from out my legs like currant wine –
that sweet unwelcome blood of atrophy
sat red upon her tongue as muscadine.
her cup full up she turns her gaze to flesh
to take from me her pound, then two, then five;
to rake thin fingers cross the scalp and thresh
my hair, like wheat, to pay some holy tithe
and clutch me like a candle through the night.
at morning light she pinches out the wick:
she spends me, bends me down as acolyte
to altars where her ash has settled thick
in lungs and throat and shallow-thrumming heart,
where all my lover’s love rends me apart.
surrogate love contagion by ChloroformBoy, literature
Literature
surrogate love contagion
things i wanted to tell you:
(crying in your car edition)
excuse my embarrassment,
but you're just so beautiful
& i’m just so unavailable
excuse my apprehension,
but i want it to be perfect
(we’re always bad timing
& worse luck)
excuse my curiosity,
but i want to read
the braille of your heart,
feel its wants and needs
and regrets (you can feel
mine)
excuse my aesopian analogies,
but i’m the greedy dog
who can't swim
to clarify:
you're the reflection;
temptation, the river;
me, drowning
excuse my contingency,
but you're the understudy
of my hydrophobic heart,
the backup star of its new play:
a long-awaited romance
with
Your Lips Dripped Ambrosia by ChloroformBoy, literature
Literature
Your Lips Dripped Ambrosia
Let me carry
the weight of
your heart
upon my shoulders
Gently rest
between the
crevices of
my clavicles &
I become Atlas
(your celestial
innkeeper)
-
I've asked history's
greatest architects
for a copy of your
body's blueprints;
I've snuck into art
museums, chased
after geographers
&Venusian tailors;
alas, the roadmap
to your soul leads
to the most magnificent chateaux
to ever bless the heavens: a scene
unfit for my
mortal eyes
-
Gravity vanished at the touch of
your skin (carefully stitched
from the lushest clouds
the sky could offer,
a majestic patchwork
I have returned to scrub this account into an archive and see if anybody I remember is still around. Can't bring myself to delete my old stuff... But I also don't have much new to offer.
it's been a bit, i know, but i'm still alive and that's what counts?
living in the city with a boy/girlfriend and getting by okay.
15 credits left in my degree, i'll most likely get to it in the next two years.
confirmed disabled (shout out to my Chiari peeps!) and seeking SSI.
haven't done much writing in the past few years, but heck of a lot of reading in the past three months.
got a date sometime next week, so there's that.
tumblr is @atardisoutoftime if you really want to
- Amyx <3
i haven't written a journal entry in a while, but snippets of dreams, musings, epiphanies and dates litter my computer screen and desk. i guess this is the part where i spill my guts about where i've been the past couple of months: the truth would be i've been in bed and in class. by "in bed" i don't always mean my own and it's not always on my back but since having sex for the first time last semester my life has figured itself out some more and i love the person i'm loving. and after watching a TED talk on self esteem versus self compassion (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvtZBUSplr4 i highly recommend it) and having the subsequent epiphany
hello there, lovely person! this is to inform you that i have made use of one of the titles of your poetry in my title poem over here: fav.me/d8d65gn i hope that this is alright with you, pray that you enjoy the read, and thank you for your inspirational artistry! <3