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Literature Text
you'll find me dreaming in the cemetary,
placid, sleeping in my own grave,
sending you a serenade of shivers,
in defiance of your dare-
"until death do us part",
as if it's a challenge,
as if i would cease to exist,
as if you wouldn't want me when i'm cold.
climb into my coffin, princess,
and i'll show you what it means to be alive-
how it feels to be immortal and severe and intimate,
like nothing you've ever felt,
like something that's buried beneath your skin,
that's running through your bloodstream,
but never reaching your heart.
placid, sleeping in my own grave,
sending you a serenade of shivers,
in defiance of your dare-
"until death do us part",
as if it's a challenge,
as if i would cease to exist,
as if you wouldn't want me when i'm cold.
climb into my coffin, princess,
and i'll show you what it means to be alive-
how it feels to be immortal and severe and intimate,
like nothing you've ever felt,
like something that's buried beneath your skin,
that's running through your bloodstream,
but never reaching your heart.
Literature
Death By Obscurity
I watch the origami sky
unfurl
with scowling crab
grass knives growing through the
seams in my skull
A mother's hand to her mother's head:
I smooth out her wrinkles, creases,
and smile
This story my bones well know
washes over me
The clouds split
their underbellies giving
birth
to legs
Their screams pool in my ears
Each day and the next and the next and so
Dark times imbed themselves under vast plains of skin
plains of skin that light won't seek
and it doesn't
For who keeps a
count but
God
Literature
nervosa.
an empty girl with
empty eyes
and a sandpaper
smile.
her meals never
stop
because they never
really
begin.
the mirror defies
her thin wrists
and ankles
and suddenly,
she's not hungry
anymore.
Literature
schizo
i wanted a proposal on an airplane
yesterday, that was a good day;
with your stomach making a sound like
a tinny orchestra i wasn't so afraid of
demyelination.
you told me, let's stop fighting
all the rainbows are yours
but they were hidden under your nails.
-
last week we watched a movie about numinous storks— a girl and her legs
in tandem, the way they moved
like dry cells of the sun. eyes,
red and dreamy between the
spaces of the sloughed long year
which have watched the heterochromic you
ever since she was told
"beautiful, you make the sun come down"
and the heat gave her a dry mouth
and the rain that fell was a s
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