L

His name was shy of just 3 little letters
Missing
From the ceiling my legs on a bed
Of razors
Through the head on the other side, pop the weasel
Goes the needle
Speakers blow through the cracks

Took a mirror and applied some dust
Breathed in the senses broke out of delight
Eyes through a camera lens flashed
Flickered on my skin
Candle burns a 3rd degree
The way his love would ignite
A vision,
He wasn’t one to sacrifice
So I told myself to tread carefully with love understated
Not required to give back

His hands would almost fissure my body if I
Didn’t hold on tighter
A ghost of past
Slick presents on my holy throne,
Jesus he was laudable
Like no other from a page I’d written with half
Empty ink
Carved precision
Such fulfillment
Anything to get a little piece
Of heaven that is him.

So fine and outlined on my lips his tips
Went searching a map of lines
He was good with his hands
No race against time
His eyes like water
Purified with just one smile
No grammar to correct my mistakes
If I said the wrong thing the alphabet he would erase

Hid himself deep inside my essence
I tried to extricate between
This fabrication
But forgery felt good on my body so I let him
Desecrate and outrage
Provide me with suffrage so I can have
A character worthy of a challenge to dissipate

(I will never get tired of reading this. And as cliche it might be, (everything I do and say and write is) it still holds me. I was 18, and I was wise.)

///

burn this box laid out on the bed with your smile, crooked with each letter on my pulse. i am not, nor have i ever been the one to save, to stay free with misery, that is my ocean.

3 birds.

Ate a cobweb, birthed a spider. There were moist summer nights where I stumbled through secrets. Opened locks, and caressed the devil's hands. Drew a life plan on windows - slightly cracked. Broke away from chains glistening on lustful skin. Premature, and naive. I gave my knowledge a chance to bloom. Gave my enemies a chance to surrender. My youth I copied on paper, or at least tried. A slab on pavement, I thought my insecurities were beautifully designed. Never did have color in my eyes, so I used theirs to inspire.

Death came on the porch stoop. Grabbed a hold and refused to let go. Got to the age where I was a woman. Not by choice - by the clock's order. My heart, a submissive little mistress - gave in and breathed some life. From oppression a willing host appeared. Your love could have set me on fire. It did, but I never burned. Should have tortured my mind to stop on its feet. Should have, but chose to walk on coal. Took the road taken by all, cared for by no-one. Never did I exist, not until I picked on a blister that turned into a scab, and then a full on infection.

Gave a bird a free trip around the world. Grew her wings with patience, and innocence. Took this bird by my hand, a handicapped outcast. Sculpted her body to fit, contour around mine. She flew with words of yours. Breathed in and lived to moments on purity. Horizons opened their arms with scorching fire, and fellow birds wished to replicate. I saw her veracity and remembered - I never did like to exist. I shot her down.

Always did keep myself at bay. A rat in a maze, you were - waiting for an answer from a wild soul. I shot my baby, she fell on my window pane. How she got so close inside I never knew. How she crept up - loved me under her wings, cared for me. Why did she chose me? I let her stay for a minute, a minute too long. That day she came back to life - I remember her feathers in ruin. When the rain came down it washed her stains. She was my symbol of what could live again.

Used to take walks to clear the words leftover from midday mania. Close my eyes and sleep away every hour - for at least an hour. Everyday I let you in a little deeper. Until you held me up, proper like a doll. Daylight was kind to me with you on the side. I shot my baby down, but you were mine. A resurrection of what lay on the window pane. What a laugh of love that bird I let fly again.

The mind blocking any light or human form. Smoke from my mouth - standing still. Your bird was mine to kill. The room is frenzied with colors of the sky. Colors of the night, black for too long. Blessed the hand that brings curses to heal. Now only a shadow of what a girl used to be. Unattainable, the sky laughs with misery.

I'll taste freedom one day.

she sinks to open arms of water ready to chew
through virginity. exhaling relief, inhaling a purpose.
as if to invite each bubble to roam free inside her.
to dance carefully, lungs as broken machinery,
but steady, to go to war.
body dangles for survival, and she killed her last chance.
trembles to waves.
splat.

I can taste the acid on my tongue sometimes. Every time actually, every time you open your mouth. That perfect mouth, with those lips that could tear words right out of my heart. 

I can taste your delight. Your colors. Your smile, that smile that I have grown to avoid for fear of melting into hands too cold to carry me. 

Manipulation, you can work it so easy. 

I would take physical pain over emotional pain anytime of the day.


This - this right here, is indescribable.