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Literature Text
i swallowed the earth; let it stick
in my throat, wondering if
comets are the tears of stars -
a lonely kind of beautiful. oh,
the shadowed angel of my dreams
must have stolen their grief
and made it her halo,
those stone lips cold
but perfect. like cruelty
was not in her blood but was
her blood and every time sharp
asteroid edges cut her skin,
she bled ice instead of liquid.
i must have been
the rings of Saturn,
orbiting this resplendent being
of no kindness and
no grace.
in my throat, wondering if
comets are the tears of stars -
a lonely kind of beautiful. oh,
the shadowed angel of my dreams
must have stolen their grief
and made it her halo,
those stone lips cold
but perfect. like cruelty
was not in her blood but was
her blood and every time sharp
asteroid edges cut her skin,
she bled ice instead of liquid.
i must have been
the rings of Saturn,
orbiting this resplendent being
of no kindness and
no grace.
(and the chill bites earth
making the screams echo)
Literature
cynical: arsenical
splinter-thorn boy,
it will all start to
d i s i n t e g r a t e
beneath you
you are
the least beautiful way to unravel -
all maggot-rot, no
split-thread, no
ribbon-torn boy
an architect of
self-abuse;
a god of
ru(i)n(n)ing
[away] &
no:
there is nothing holy about you
Literature
.
i.
to be perfectly honest,
i've got a rabbit's heart.
you know,
the kind that freezes
the moment it senses danger.
kind of like a january midnight where
all is still and the only thing you can taste
is the rawness of your uncovered
fingers.
and it aches
and aches
until your fists refuse
to loosen,
before finally it stops beating
and you're slowly dying
inside of yourself.
ii.
once upon a time
i fancied myself a she-wolf.
ivory fangs that bit down on
desperation,
silver eyes that could see
through hell itself,
and a blackness nestled peacefully
inside my chest,
sleeping all day and waking only
when the full moon rose.
but i have learn
Literature
liii.
while i sit in my crumpled shirt,
naked legs and bleached underwear
i ponder about silence and solitude
along with the brotherhood they share
they were the flat lines in heart monitors,
the shooting stars that happen behind your back
the budding flowers and sleeping children
the world that happens while you sleep
and like the ticking of the clock
they bear a loneliness
that was either too loud or unnoticed
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like you, darling.
© 2016 - 2024 XSwan-SongX
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