{ you deserve a love poem }
— 10. 6. 23.
you deserve a sweet passage
dedicated to your likeness.
a description of a gentleness
lingering in our touch.
I want to write lovely things
about you -
we were warm in bed and
your brown eyes - so beautiful-
blinked slowly, sleepily. and i
kissed you, hard. and we were
satisfied…
…and you were on too much benadryl,
and I was about to relapse and im so,
so afraid you're going to abandon this life-
abandon me.
I wish I could write a
love poem about you.
you deserve a better life.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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{ remove myself }
— 10. 11. 23.
watch me shove and slide
myself out of my
maroon decapitation wound.
removing myself from my body,
I stand on my own sunken shoulders.
finally, free from
the feeling of this awful vessel.
watch my fly-wings unfurl
- the further I fly, the closer i am to divinity.
----------------------------
prompt - remove
𖦹⭒°。⋆
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I guess im kinda brainstorming character dynamics for this storyy. very early brainstorming, there's no plot or anything yet but I'm putting inspo and info under #sheepdog story
text for screenreaders below cut -
the lamb’s desire
— 11.17.23
i, a lamb
overcome with a frivolous desire -
a desparete desire
to feel my flesh
between the wolf’s yellowed teeth.
oh wont you tear me apart,
ill cry out in pleasure.
oh wont you let me become part of
something greater than myself.
the sheepdog tries so hard
to prevent my pain-crazed nature
- doesnt he see if different from the flock
doesnt he know im meant to stray.
the sheepdog flatters me,
though i know he will never
sink his fangs into my flesh
as the wolf has sworn.
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{ stuck in a dream-state }
— 10. 4. 23.
and so I'm seeing myself
stammer out a list
of symptoms.
plan? intent?
she sounds so tired…
and I avoid a hospital stay.
to deal with dream-states,
she divulges,
one can be prescribed low-dose antipsychotics,
- but you're on meds that should be working.
there's no biological basis,
- you're on meds that should be working.
you're just directionless,
get a job, get a therapist,
- you're on meds that should be working.
I don't pretend to be a professional
but damn, my meds aren't working.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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{ help me be unblemished }
— 10. 14. 23.
dear, won’t you
draw out my digestive tract?
can’t you cut me open and
do away with my innards?
I want to be
bubblegum pink inside
- unblemished by blood and bile.
you could help me,
and you could so tenderly sponge the incision
- unburdening me from filth and flesh.
---------------------------
prompt - sponge
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
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i may dislike myself
text below cut !
i'm not a healthy person to be around ;
- 1.9.24
a laundry list of
ways i cut you up
and a promise of
several years apart,
at least.
im sorry - my hands have
grown into knives and
i'm careless when i dance.
eyes shut in the moment -
i don’t see your crimson red
until you've bled all over me.
i can only think of
another woman,
my current love - i must.
i can only think of
removing my hands.
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poem inspired by a recent salvia trip :3
text for screenreaders below cut -
tripping, dripping
— 11.22.23
i am raining from scaly-cloud skies -
dripping from the oak trees
down to the earth below.
ive formed ravenes of countless cycles.
i erode earth away again and
let the predetermined pathway
run its course.
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{ can't swim, can we? }
— 10. 5. 23.
the water quality is progressively degenerating.
surely there's a sewer leaking
into my fish-pond skull.
must be…
the water is ever so dull.
my head, filled with catfish
that can't swim, that can't breathe.
and that can barely see each other.
shit clogs their crimson gills;
shit covers their eyes blurring
every thing, every thought.
once they darted and they danced
through crisp water, unconstrained.
open my skull and
empty the waste and replace
it with soothing stream water
- free me from this murky madness!
------------------
prompt - degenerative
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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shrooms will fix my brain
text below cut !
omitted ;
- 1.13.24
i always omit
myself from the
narrative of my life.
faded and
only watching.
i am not a human,
i am an observer.
it's a frightful shock
when my form is found -
acknowledged.
i shouldn't be so solid
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{ delirious darling }
— 10. 4. 23.
my darling! you're delirious!
that bottle of pills
which imparts unto you,
scenes of violence and
dark entities closing in.
it's okay, baby, it's okay!
and you can't keep a train of thought
but maybe I can convince you
that you're safe.
my darling, I can't lie to you
and say -
it doesn't frighten me
the way you crave to be frightened.
-------------------------
prompt - delirium
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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auuughh i thibkc my brain broke my memory is fucked
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decided to work on poetry in the early morning, then my novel wip during the day. so expect >:)
text for the visually impaired below cut
that artificial chocolate scent
— 11.15.23
my mahogany-colored
bunny plush,
chocolate scented and
obtained at age fourteen
during a starving phase
- one of the first of dozens to date
i still inhale
its artificial aroma
in attempt to quell my appetite
every once-in-a-while
some sick sense of nostalgia
for the earlier years
of this disease.on
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jokes on me !
text for screenreaders below cut -
dashed expectations
— 11.26.23
a frivolous expectation of mine -
ill smoke and
a poem will come to mind
the automatic flowstate
will make me feel intelligent again,
im sure
so i smoke and
of course i dont do much -
i stare at
the blank page
- inept.
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{ if I kissed you }
if I kissed you
it would taste of chemicals
swimming circles around my sinuses,
and of coffee and creamer,
syrupy sweet.
one taste overwhelms the other,
is that okay?
do you know which one?
↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
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{ we ponder too much }
— 10. 12. 23.
i dream up a blissful haze.
it's you and me,
and we laze
by the bank of a pond, pristine.
i play with your hair.
we look down and do not
pause to ponder our reflections.
we step through them
- we let them ripple out.
--------------------
prompt - pond
𖦹⭒°。⋆
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meow gonna try to write a poem or piece of flash fiction daily.. need to get back i to writimg idk (asks are open for prompts!)
text below cut -
consume my sickness ;
- 1.11.24
a coughing fit !
smoke-infected
self-inflicted.
i hack up my lungs and
all of their eyes turn
on me.
the thrill of this sickness being seen.
won't you surrounding strangers
come, consume my lungs?
eat the entirety,
every inch of my illness !
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