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Literature Text
inhale hope into my bones
and chase away the insanity
that murmurs through my flesh.
exhale your fears and watch them dance
away like smoke
wafting to infect someone elses lungs.
don't be shy, little girl.
daddy's not here to save you now.
feet together.
stand up straight.
inhale. exhale.
repeat.
and chase away the insanity
that murmurs through my flesh.
exhale your fears and watch them dance
away like smoke
wafting to infect someone elses lungs.
don't be shy, little girl.
daddy's not here to save you now.
feet together.
stand up straight.
inhale. exhale.
repeat.
Literature
chemicals
the alchemist mingles and melts and mixes
yet you don't turn to gold; i know you are
already made of [e]motionless metal, indoors-
where cosy hearth-fires used to tickle skin of inside
intestines and intestines and cellularity, lobsterlike red
as are your brain wisps still- happy pink, they call it
but fish are to be eaten only, and you carelessly dance a duet
with the white unscrupulousness, back and forth-
till your lobsters of sense shrink and shrink and shrink
at last, you are gold
Literature
if you're an ocean, then i'm drowning.
You are a calculated mistake –
something that I've known is wrong from the very start. And I wake up next to you every morning lately, praying that your split lips don't sink me – even though I know it's too late.
You're already taking me under, because, baby –
you're heavy like hurricane. Like a thousand drops of rain pounding down on my shoulder blades. You're seeping into my skin and into my bloodstream. It's only a matter of time until you spread to my heart.
It's too late. I'm already drowning in you.
It's too late, but god, I cannot love you.
You're like the last boy I kissed –
which means I should already b
Literature
The Loss
I can't think I can't breathe I don't know where I'm going or where I've been or If I'm really here at all is this some sort of dream am I dead am I here does it even matter any more? I'm falling, falling, falling, falling I've hit rock bottom I've found a shovel I'm digging, I'm digging, I'm digging and I've hit gold and I've found riches but I don't need them there's no point in them so I'm still digging and I've hit oil and I'm covered in thick oil and it's dark and it disgusting and I can't breathe and I can't see and I can't do anything because I'm still digging and the oil is filling up my lungs and I can't breathe and I'm still digging
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it's so disjointed.
but that's the way i feel.
i haven't written anything in so long. i miss it.
but that's the way i feel.
i haven't written anything in so long. i miss it.
© 2014 - 2024 cloudedintentions
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