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Literature Text
i heard she fucked him in the stairway this morning,
the one that's rarely used, you know?
i think your lips are bleeding
with the tales warped around your little
finger, anything
to suit your fancy –
tell me, have you ever played Chinese
Whispers?
because it sounds like you're
breaking the rules;
& maybe i'm wrong but surely it
matters that you're exactly the reason
everyone walks around with paintbrushes
& blank masks
it would work better if you cut down your
forearm rather than across.
your eyes must see everything
& your heart must be a poisoned apple
to combine lies & someone's secrets,
screaming it to the world
from the rooftops of a broken
town.
oh my god, are you pregnant?
i breathe a smile cracked with
imperfections where my thoughts like
to hide
& picture slow deaths & other comforting
things until you walk
away and leave me behind,
just like i knew you would.
she's a fucking psycho, that one.
the one that's rarely used, you know?
i think your lips are bleeding
with the tales warped around your little
finger, anything
to suit your fancy –
tell me, have you ever played Chinese
Whispers?
because it sounds like you're
breaking the rules;
& maybe i'm wrong but surely it
matters that you're exactly the reason
everyone walks around with paintbrushes
& blank masks
it would work better if you cut down your
forearm rather than across.
your eyes must see everything
& your heart must be a poisoned apple
to combine lies & someone's secrets,
screaming it to the world
from the rooftops of a broken
town.
oh my god, are you pregnant?
i breathe a smile cracked with
imperfections where my thoughts like
to hide
& picture slow deaths & other comforting
things until you walk
away and leave me behind,
just like i knew you would.
she's a fucking psycho, that one.
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
Anonymity
Confusion.
Forgotten access
memories of another person
another year
another moment
in time.
Literature
on the cusp
it is just that when i let go of you
when i let go
it's hard to remain that perfect without you.
--
the in-between of love, buds- so full of potential
our love is written in whispers on the pages
of a book which has not yet been opened.
--
that day, the sun had erased the last lines
of an unforgiving winter from my skin, i was renewed
olive skinned and feeling as if i had just fled the eternal
garden naked as i came- free, fallen.
--
the sky was dark;
nothing but the blood red smile of the moon
cut through the transient darkness of the night.
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for eighth grade & my lovely shark friend;
thank god you're both far away now.
Chinese Whispers is a game I played as a kid where a bunch of people sit in a circle and a phrase is whispered into someone's ear and goes around the circle. The aim of the game is for it to be the exact same phrase after it's been whispered all the way around.
thank god you're both far away now.
Chinese Whispers is a game I played as a kid where a bunch of people sit in a circle and a phrase is whispered into someone's ear and goes around the circle. The aim of the game is for it to be the exact same phrase after it's been whispered all the way around.
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Comments22
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Oh my god. This is the spitting image of eighth grade. Its put just how I think everyone I knew dealt with it. I think
I can guess the shark friend? Not sure but a couple of people come to mind.
I can guess the shark friend? Not sure but a couple of people come to mind.