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Literature Text
Even with the support beams giving out,
windowpanes like wine bottles in a bonfire,
I couldn’t help but peek over my shoulder once or twice.
Only the important things. Only
the important things…
Everything within arm’s reach clutched to my chest,
I almost went blind barefoot in the wreckage. The chemical aurora
bloomed with molten grace embracing me within the galaxy’s
most delectable chokehold.
Opiates.
Eyelids like anchors, I saw Eden spill into
Sodom like Atlantis into the surf.
The crashing refrain pulled me under until
I woke seeping out
through the warm bite of a velvet hearttrap..
June clouds now stalk the moon a couple miles
out of withdrawal and I’m still imagining the
peeling paint that wrapped the shit bathrooms, trembling hands
and sweet paranoia..
The difference
between deoxyribonucleic lace and chains,
intimacy and espionage, is a karmic aftertaste; broken
and flung some thousand times against
the unplugged core. Tobacco smoke
like blood in the tide, flick and pull
to flee.
windowpanes like wine bottles in a bonfire,
I couldn’t help but peek over my shoulder once or twice.
Only the important things. Only
the important things…
Everything within arm’s reach clutched to my chest,
I almost went blind barefoot in the wreckage. The chemical aurora
bloomed with molten grace embracing me within the galaxy’s
most delectable chokehold.
Opiates.
Eyelids like anchors, I saw Eden spill into
Sodom like Atlantis into the surf.
The crashing refrain pulled me under until
I woke seeping out
through the warm bite of a velvet hearttrap..
June clouds now stalk the moon a couple miles
out of withdrawal and I’m still imagining the
peeling paint that wrapped the shit bathrooms, trembling hands
and sweet paranoia..
The difference
between deoxyribonucleic lace and chains,
intimacy and espionage, is a karmic aftertaste; broken
and flung some thousand times against
the unplugged core. Tobacco smoke
like blood in the tide, flick and pull
to flee.
Literature
moon
he reads to her, tells her what it was like to be a sailor of the seas on the moon. "don't stop talking," she tells him, dozing off, imagining the seas of zephyr.
spyglass on the moon a million miles away, the ether shatters by a little girl on her toes, standing on her mattress, clinging to her window above. stain glass eyes in the wake of moon and she breathes as the sea slamming onto the pane, receding and reaching; clouding and clearing. her breaths reach the moon and the moon reaches back with her hands pressed to the girl's eyes.
"one day," she tells the moon, the boy still at her bedside, "you and i will be together."
Literature
How to Sleep and Never Wake Up
The year they discovered my best friend, twenty years old and silent under the heap of her wrecked car, I learned one can sleep forever and never wake up.
That year, her sister, only seventeen, ate magic mushrooms and lost her mind and her brother, fourteen, started running and stopped eating and I didn't eat magic mushrooms but lost my mind anyway as everyone watched my skin, too white to be real, disintegrate before their eyes.
That year I flew to Colorado to see an urn surrounded by pointe shoes. It reminded me more of a wastebasket than the last I would see of the girl who shared my soul. Her sister ran naked through the street a few da
Literature
still,
"i want grandchildren."
that car ride ruined some things
threw a wine bottle at the wall
15 years sitting
it was good enough or
it wasn't good enough
all the silence forced
my pride to jump out the window
if any rested in her
she showed it off like a speech bubble
tied it to her teeth
slammed it in the door
had it under her pillow for months
and years and years and years
there was no statement
there was no outstretched hand
just steering wheel clenching
knuckles white and jaw taut
(all because who i bed was not her mindful of
timeline perfection)
i still think i'm a tumor
--
she shows it off like a speeding ticket
i
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