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Literature Text
july is hot, the earth drips gold and poetry
my fingers pressed down to alleviate
a night of emotion and movement
that i will empty into lilac fields of numbness and indifference, still
the quiet and the calm
my mind roaming from good and sweetness
to strapping my shoes on and leaving,
leaving and sneaking in and heaving,
heaving with my words churning up:
fuck you, fuck them, fuck him, fuck her.
nothing's beautiful here, i say in my mind
and i mean it, i mean it, i mean, what else could i think--
why feel when you can bleed?
why eat when you can puke?
why dream when you can ache?
why love when you can fuck?
on the terms of addiction i am well versed, and they know this
they tumble my nicknames, my name,
hannah becomes heroin,
my red hair and i ascending, too beautiful
and i'm spilling out, slicing open
i found a smudge of your mascara on my thighs
from times where we were smoke and tendrils
underwater movement, thick air too much to breathe
soft fluid to lie low, drippy with our gems and flowers,
our barren bodies lost, stripped bare
you've cured my homesickness with your heartbeat
wrap me up in tart arms and seclude me to nowhere
let me be drunk
let me burn high
i want nothing more of this bulimic life
where living is more of a charity case, a pity fuck
turning you to meaningless ash beneath my fingers
these cigarettes taste like your mouth
i have written you into lies
lied you into words
my femme kiss your burning desire, your
unraveling composure
i watch the steadiness melt hard between me and you
as i ride you into your own demise
as clarity fogs, your disposition clatters
like a dinner plate
hollow sounds and traitor feelings
telling me too much
"i'm not an open book" i warn
and your eyes soften around me.
baby you know i am not making love
this is not love nor will it be
funny how we can move the same way and define it so differently
i think of the way she'd look when it happens
and you
i cannot even look at you as everything drifts
as time escapes the great escapist
as thieves and wives rain into me,
climb into my bed long after midnight,
straddle my face and i am
like wine, delirious, sweet
i want them to sigh, i
want the earth to spin my name into clouds
so the atmosphere will claw up my spine and then
i can say i have made love to something
perhaps worth loving
but you, burning
no
this is not where i fall, enveloping you,
you inside of me, this charm of biology
watching you dissolve beneath me
there is no smoke like the kind
that has been held in my lungs
and you hold me to you.
this is nothing
we are nothing
as your fingernails tear my back
reminiscent of the flight i dream of before
the return of that pretty burn,
the stomach acid eating my throat,
gently corroding me, my hands, fingers,
running down my forearms and i try my best
to hold still and
everything collapses around me,
falling in sounds like hunger, rain, depth
i think of you and all of the girls i've ever wished for
and when your lips touch my neck i wish
you'd call me a fraud and a whore
just to again feel the white scissors of the sky
that snip my skin in small bits as months pass
to feel just as sick as i used to so i know
it wasn't all a dream, and neither are you
the rainwater drenches my thoughts
weighted as i am, heaviness is vital.
i can taste our skin under my nails.
if my regret could talk
i would scream the house down
with an aria of melancholia,
depression seeping into rage
with fingers that ache in my hope for life.
and maybe these painkillers have slept too long in my veins
maybe i am writhing in the sleepless nights
and maybe the murderers have learned to father their children
maybe i am alone again
maybe daisies grow near waterfalls
maybe i want you above me,
maybe i want you below me
maybe i want the world to silence me
or your kisses instead
maybe i want to be held
and you won't,
you won't
you won't
maybe you won't
my fingers pressed down to alleviate
a night of emotion and movement
that i will empty into lilac fields of numbness and indifference, still
the quiet and the calm
my mind roaming from good and sweetness
to strapping my shoes on and leaving,
leaving and sneaking in and heaving,
heaving with my words churning up:
fuck you, fuck them, fuck him, fuck her.
nothing's beautiful here, i say in my mind
and i mean it, i mean it, i mean, what else could i think--
why feel when you can bleed?
why eat when you can puke?
why dream when you can ache?
why love when you can fuck?
on the terms of addiction i am well versed, and they know this
they tumble my nicknames, my name,
hannah becomes heroin,
my red hair and i ascending, too beautiful
and i'm spilling out, slicing open
i found a smudge of your mascara on my thighs
from times where we were smoke and tendrils
underwater movement, thick air too much to breathe
soft fluid to lie low, drippy with our gems and flowers,
our barren bodies lost, stripped bare
you've cured my homesickness with your heartbeat
wrap me up in tart arms and seclude me to nowhere
let me be drunk
let me burn high
i want nothing more of this bulimic life
where living is more of a charity case, a pity fuck
turning you to meaningless ash beneath my fingers
these cigarettes taste like your mouth
i have written you into lies
lied you into words
my femme kiss your burning desire, your
unraveling composure
i watch the steadiness melt hard between me and you
as i ride you into your own demise
as clarity fogs, your disposition clatters
like a dinner plate
hollow sounds and traitor feelings
telling me too much
"i'm not an open book" i warn
and your eyes soften around me.
baby you know i am not making love
this is not love nor will it be
funny how we can move the same way and define it so differently
i think of the way she'd look when it happens
and you
i cannot even look at you as everything drifts
as time escapes the great escapist
as thieves and wives rain into me,
climb into my bed long after midnight,
straddle my face and i am
like wine, delirious, sweet
i want them to sigh, i
want the earth to spin my name into clouds
so the atmosphere will claw up my spine and then
i can say i have made love to something
perhaps worth loving
but you, burning
no
this is not where i fall, enveloping you,
you inside of me, this charm of biology
watching you dissolve beneath me
there is no smoke like the kind
that has been held in my lungs
and you hold me to you.
this is nothing
we are nothing
as your fingernails tear my back
reminiscent of the flight i dream of before
the return of that pretty burn,
the stomach acid eating my throat,
gently corroding me, my hands, fingers,
running down my forearms and i try my best
to hold still and
everything collapses around me,
falling in sounds like hunger, rain, depth
i think of you and all of the girls i've ever wished for
and when your lips touch my neck i wish
you'd call me a fraud and a whore
just to again feel the white scissors of the sky
that snip my skin in small bits as months pass
to feel just as sick as i used to so i know
it wasn't all a dream, and neither are you
the rainwater drenches my thoughts
weighted as i am, heaviness is vital.
i can taste our skin under my nails.
if my regret could talk
i would scream the house down
with an aria of melancholia,
depression seeping into rage
with fingers that ache in my hope for life.
and maybe these painkillers have slept too long in my veins
maybe i am writhing in the sleepless nights
and maybe the murderers have learned to father their children
maybe i am alone again
maybe daisies grow near waterfalls
maybe i want you above me,
maybe i want you below me
maybe i want the world to silence me
or your kisses instead
maybe i want to be held
and you won't,
you won't
you won't
maybe you won't
Literature
gasoline+sentimental sobriety
she wants a tattoo of a
dozen wax paper boats
fluttering up
the cobbles of her indecency
a disappointing rainbow of
gasoline and sentimental sobriety
but she'll have to settle
for the word
toy
written on her wrist in bold
and the truckload of
testosterone-fueled boys
who confirm everything in her
pretty
little
head
Literature
before
a little while ago
maybe a couple of months or something
i wasn't drinking ; instead i was
waking up to you
every morning you would stretch
and your spine would move and i felt it all over
your skin stretched into the sun and
i saw it everywhere
but guess what, that shit was gold and
gold doesn't last and you didn't last.
i got boring and you got mean.
and you're less of a gypsy and more of
a woman and i know if i called you up tonight
said hey baby come home
how did we get here baby i'm crying on the
floor drinking lime pepsi
and this goddamn pepsi is flat. so why don't
you come home. just for the night.
you would say you h
Literature
tetnis
her skin bruises like storm clouds, cuts like lightning
and her skeleton aches for different reasons every day.
the blood on her knees matches the blush on her cheeks
and she thinks she's in love.
she starts to think she feels butterflies, but different
they're moths, attacking and decaying her insides
her liver is shutting down and she can't eat anymore
but the heart beat barely hurts
she looks into his pretty brown eyes and they're so
sad, so fucking sad she just wants to hold his fragile
face between her fingers but he's sand, he's water vapor
she blinks and he's barely there
he has scars like her, though his are less casu
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it turned july...i watched the clock hit midnight and for some reason i didn't know it was july but it felt more significant than usual and i watched july become real while being held by you and it was interesting
xo
xo
© 2012 - 2024 silklilies
Comments12
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you write so much and you leave nothing out and i wish i could write long poetry like you do.
(i have a stack of over 100 deviations from you. this is the oldest. i am so bad about getting through my messages and i am, just slowly, i promise.)
(i have a stack of over 100 deviations from you. this is the oldest. i am so bad about getting through my messages and i am, just slowly, i promise.)