i am writing a melodramatic poem that would scare you instead of crying in the shower // alm
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youre right, i do have a fire inside of me. please help me keep it under control. it cant take away any more than it already has.
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the initials carved in towering trees have been scratched out. the tall grass once swaying in the wind is still. the birds and the crickets are silent. something large is looming here. something disgusting and vile.
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I know good things exist but just in case can you remind me again // alm // for @actuallymewhassuppeeps
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everything around you is sick. the ground underneath you is heaving and sputtering up everything within it. you cant breathe.
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It hurts and I'm laughing like the time the branch broke under my bare feet and I tumbled, rough and ripped, to the ground.
And I'm laughing.
Because crying isnt so different but I'm tired of it.
Dear diary, I will not take the blame for the weakness of the branch. I understand I am the one who broke it. But I will not be responsible for how thin it grew.
Dear diary, I woke up and I made a hot cup of Chai and I looked out the window, and I didn't cry. And the squirrels fell from the tree, and they laughed I'm sure.
Dear diary, I laughed all day with them and I meant it.
We are responsible for the things we tame, the things we break, but I am not to blame for the fragility.
I just need to learn to hold things better.
Or maybe just not at all,
Because then I don't drop them.
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imagine:
it’s a crisp spring morning, the sky is clear, but not too bright yet. you arise out of your den, crunching the damp leaves below you. you walk about for a while, until you find a clearing. curious, you decide to check it out.
you prance over the hill, a large river stares back at you. it is still.
you go to lay down next to the cool water. peering up, you see birds flying. they are calm. soaring from tree to tree, singing their song.
you look down into the water. a somber sunfish is settled in the sun-basked water. it is quiet.
all is still.
all is calm.
all is quiet.
you are safe here.
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the sun shines on you once more. this overwhelming feeling deep in your chest is no longer something angry, something bitter. its something softer, something happier.
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something angry dwells deep inside you. you can feel the rushing of blood inside your body, you've almost reached your breaking point. maybe you have already
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frost covers your skin. snow clings to your eyelashes. you take a cautious step forward in the ice.
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will you run out of time? start running. it’s the only way to find out
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despite the empty feeling, your body is so, so heavy. you feel like you could sink into the floor and float at the same time.
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i need somewhere dimmer. somewhere that the doorframes welcome me, where the carpet is soft and feels like home, just as every other part of it will. gentle nights, early mornings, living and breathing with the earth, welcoming the morning sun, understanding the fading sunset, never holding a grudge against the time passing.
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you do not have to be good but i wanna be anyways // alm
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I am a beast and this human form is restricting. I miss how the ground would shake under my feet and all the living creatures would bow to me.
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a girl devil (snow white, loaded, black-eyed) lights a cigarette, and you watch blood from her nose drip onto it. she hooks a finger (her nail polish is chipped, her knuckles are scraped and bruised) into a torn fishnet, pulls, watches the threads come loose. she grins when she notices you.
this girl, you think, will eat the world whole. the stars, you think, burn out under her stare.
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something inside you has been rotting for a long time now, maybe since you were born. you know this with as much certainty as you can see your skin peel
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