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Literature Text
- He's watching her hips sway to the rhythm of the war drums.
Dis-dis-disaster, dis-dis-disaster is coming.
And it's wearing silky panties that have
daddy issues written all over them.
Literature
we should celebrate
i.
i tried to think of pain as a flower,
first it blossoms
and then
it wilts away.
but i won't let myself disappear
along with it,
i won't
give you that.
(it's not the agony that makes
me scream, it's the flavor).
ii.
and you whispered softly
"i'll rip your heart out and replace it
with a song,
it's christmas soon, and
we should celebrate".
you've always used my scars
as a calendar,
as a way to remind yourself
"today is tuesday
and i still exist".
iii.
(it's morning now because
i can see
the sunlight
through my eyelids
and imagine
Literature
Troy
You have too much time on your hands, Love,
folding paper cranes with broken fingers,
wishing to see northern lights in the eyes of strangers.
There are no lions between your bed sheets
who understand your hunger better than I-
You are licking my wounds; one with the wild.
I swear it's you behind these eyelids- untamed
and desired by this lonely poetic canvas
stained with blood, ink, and words I can't fucking say.
You look like a Goddess standing there reading my skin
quiet and shameless, proud of the gaping hole in my chest.
I know it then, like I know my own counterclockwise heart;
I should never trust my own kind.
"I'll build
Literature
Scarification
blood oranges are
beautiful.
we can
slice them open
without a moment’s
thought, -
their crimson juices
licked from our lips
like ichor.
& that is what
i want to be. -
scarred fruit,
still savoring
the promises
i sucked from
your mouth -
to wear
like staples
along my spine.
- i was cut open
once.
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© 2012 - 2024 sasunaru16
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love this poem