to all the dreamers:
go ahead and build your air castles;
let no one tear them down.
you are just as strong as they;
but your armor doesn't show.
forgetting to eat: forgetting to sleepcall me an addict to decay
& (i) don’t let me see the light
(letters to the dead are worthless)
[but you wouldn’t know that, dear.]
Wounded“Jesus, Cat, how’d you scratch yourself up this bad?” I hang my head ashamedly as Ashe bandages my arm.
When I dare sneak a glance upward, I’m surprised to find that he’s smiling slightly.
“Ashi?” my voice is smaller than usual, and he seems to pick up on my worry.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not mad like usual. That what’s bothering you?”
I nod slightly, my heart racing more quickly than the sluggishly beeping heart monitor behind me.
“Cara’s worse, isn’t she? Is that why….” I dart a glance to the white-blonde comatose girl behind me, lying on her bed like some twisted sleeping beauty.
Ashe nods, but doesn’t speak. I hiss as he draws the bandages tighter, binding my forearm so tightly that I’m afraid he’ll break it.
“Relax, Catty. You’ll be fine. You might lose a little feeling, but it serves you right for going out after curfew again.”
“Like I can help it A
love we are not artistry
& i am no saint to your sins
(my god holds the world in his hands)
[gods are always distant.]
(in)organic, these girlsi will not b(are/ear) my teeth for you,
and you are not my god
(my fangs only show for silence.)
mother earth says blood is beauty
(i am not your doe-eyed girl)
[and you don't know what it is to rot.]
resonateno god can know you
& i want inside your head,
love(r/ly) we are damned and done for.
[i want to be the song you sing when you have nothing left.]
white lies and contaminationmy god is no healer,
no plague doctor,
and my sins are not absolved
(red says i will never be clean.)
Untitledi will not stich you clean,
or destroy your atomic metaphors
and love, we are not graveyard apathy—
(we are the pain of living.)
Untitledyou are no storm of mine
and your skies have been bruised for too long
it’s time to let the light in
(but i never was one for sunshine.)
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
He Wore My Makeup AgainAt least it wasn't a dress this time,
but I know that my boyfriend
has something to hide.
When I'm not looking, he takes my purse,
uses my make up to cover the hurts.
Dabs his fingers into my foundation,
taps it on his face, with hands
as skilled as a physician.
The brush he rubs down the angles of his cheek.
He should be thankful that he's
the same complexion as me.
I've never seen him with a bare face,
whenever he's with me,
the make up will stay.
At least he hasn't used my lipstick
yet, I don't know how I would
feel about him adorned in red.
And my eye shadow, he seems to leave alone,
it seems he uses my make up,
just for an even tone.
Perhaps he'll progress to using the rest,
and then I suppose then, he'll start
wearing a dress.
I guess it's slow, this painful transition.
I just want him to say it,
he's already got my attention.
I get it he's a cross dresser, he has to be right?
Isn't that what men who want to
be women describe themselves like?
I think I'll confront him about his f
acrimonyi have spent too long loving you
like a store shutting down, slashing my prices,
hoping there’s something here you might
want to buy before i go under.
this is not your fault. i was told that loving
desperately and wholly was light years
better than loving practically, but you
have spent four years loving me like i am a siege
and you are worried that your fortress’s walls
are not high enough. i think i mean
that you love me cautious; you love me
most nights i waste hours not looking at my phone
and trying to remind myself how much i am
worth without you by my side. the numbers
never add up. maybe this is because
you have never been constant enough to be an equation.
look here, i have it on good authority
that universes exist in my skin and stars have died
so that i could live. stars have died and i have
survived and you will not be the one to make me wish
my soul was nothing but a black hole.
i can’t shake the thought that you are my novel and
i am y
GayI am gay.
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
I won't cryyou can ask me how I am.
that's okay I won't cry
I don't know how I am, I can't correctly describe it.
Other than to say there's a constant ache in my chest
and a tightness in my throat,
with swelled up emotions sitting somewhere at the back of my eyes.
You should be careful what you say
but then I can't even explain what triggers these feelings
so say what you like,I'll just react in which ever way,
cos I have no controll now.
The way I feel everyday, has become so familiar to me,
since I lost him.
Sometimes it's so hard to bear,
the constant ache in my chest threatens to crush me
It's hard to breath.
The tightness im my throat burns,
I want to wail out loud my inarticulate utterances of grief
and release all my pent up emotions.
But don't worry you can ask me how I am.
It's okay, I won't cry.
Written by Suzanne karbach
21st may 2015
AlcoholicYour tux is the color
of a coal miner’s face
after a long, hard day of work-
something you’ve never
had to experience
yet you talk as though
you’re just as worn out;
your trivial chit-chat
is turning syrupy with every sip,
although your sentences
aren’t getting any sweeter
you grab another glass
of the effervescent liquid,
hoping the sea of people
will turn to black coal,
and it will be dark enough
for you to fall asleep
as you walk tipsily to the bathroom,
the overpaid opera singer
belts her last high note- a bit too high;
your crystal glass shatters
into a thousand pieces
And with it, you shatter too.
It Was Never You...It really wasn't...
And I know that I can twist this truth as much as I want...
Whenever I'm sober, when I know I can put up that fake plastic smile;
Just a few formal words that burn like acid from a liar's lips!
"Differences in personality, a divergence in ideals..."
Please, fucking, SPARE ME!
Because when I look in this mirror, I know.
When I see myself looking back at me, I know.
Right here, right in front of my own blackened self;
Those eyes that both reflect and stare into my dingy soul.
I was the problem.
I was the instigator.
I was the perpetrator.
And when I had broken every last bit of her,
I was the one, who let it all fall to pieces.
So please, you don't have to feel sorry for me,
I am a bastard and I've got a very special place in hell waiting for me...
- Word of Chen, Darkest Hour, 16th February 2015
xciv. you are the stardust between my sheetssilently our bodies
meld together in waves
of hot and cold as our
arms and legs tangle
like comets dancing at
the feet of Orion,
your soft and lecherous
lips sweep across my
stinging cheeks as your
delicate fingers work orbits
around my hips leaving
stardust trails in their wake;
we are two bodies bound
to collide like the brilliant
colors of the northern lights
for we are cosmic lovers:
you are my shining galaxy
and I am a black hole--
I will swallow you whole.
things to take to college1. between the two of us, we have eaten miles
of pavement, we have spent months pressing
the same four wheels into the ground.
whenever you need to, follow those tracks again.
they will lead you back home.
2. there are songs i only figured out how to sing
with you beside me. even now, the words
sound awkward in my throat.
the notes are wrong. i’m not sure what makes
something sacred, but words like that
i only know how to sing with a quiet
reverence i can’t seem to find anymore.
3. i am good at writing poems that convince
people to stay. i don’t know how to write
a poem to someone that i know is going to leave
no matter what i say.
4. you have faith in spades. and i’m not talking about
god. i’m talking about that tangible faith in
humanity, the faith that always makes you
ask me how my day was, even if the answer
is always the same.
5. to be truthful, i don’t want you to stay.
some people are made for the great unknown.
6. we have watched more sunset