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Literature Text
1.
without giving everything away,
there are days too hot to remember,
our bodies shaking dust from the curtains with slow,
familiar rhythm. we did not look
like people, then,
we looked like gods, we looked like lovers,
we couldn't see the ending, then,
we were tangled up in gold.
without giving everything away,
there are days too hot to remember,
our bodies shaking dust from the curtains with slow,
familiar rhythm. we did not look
like people, then,
we looked like gods, we looked like lovers,
we couldn't see the ending, then,
we were tangled up in gold.
Literature
4.13.18
i lie awake & i listen to the rain & i think that if i could choose one person to be here right now i'd still pick you.
i tell myself, you're allowed to miss people.
and i ask, even people who hurt me so badly i couldn't breathe right for six months?
i don't have an answer; i just have the flicker in my heartbeat that murmurs i miss you. i miss you. i miss you.
time blends together & it gets harder to understand if i miss you or if i miss me or if i miss the way you & me loved the other like a soulmate from the stars.
i've heard more rain tonight than i've ever heard truth from your lips, but i guess in the end all that means is that i truly
Literature
you are home
how do I begin
to ensure there is no end
beckon forever
Literature
Consumed
She was a mismatch
of auras,
the colors of
burnt summers
and wool-weave
winters,
freely
giving herself
to the world.
Her paths threaded
upon ruins,
of the abandoned,
the tattooed broken,
the vacant lost eyes.
She unraveled
her soul
with those who
devoured her
at night,
cutting out pieces,
against will,
to immortalize
power,
never love.
Those pieces
she gathered
into herself,
mending
their jagged ends,
burying down
the hurt.
So to re-emerge
onto the world,
a newborn
of distort,
ready,
yet again
to be consumed.
Suggested Collections
For ~apsara609... this is making its way into a full piece eventually, but for now, consider it a promise-stanza.
Comments12
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The imagery is mind-blowing.