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Literature Text
i. my muse is a darling thing, so shiny and full of syllables that leak out her pores when she smiles.
she holds her arms like she's carrying a newborn low to her waist and when she steps her footprints sing the bluebirds dead.
she tells me that ambrosia's got to sour sometime and i think it's meant to comfort me because
ii. my muse is a decomposing thing, so ribless and full of holes from where i have scratched her dry.
when i write her sides split open and i try to patch them up but the thread won't hold and there is not room in this ink for the both of us so
sometimes i peek through her torn up hip and snatch a glance of her heart just to see if it's the same and it is
untouched so i think it might be the last to go.
(i think it's cruel.)
she whispers that she always wanted to be a cartographer and i laugh.
iii. my muse is a dying thing, so thin and full of blood and
there is not room in this uneasy frame for the both of us but mmm sometimes i let her inside my bones just to feel them ache.
she holds her arms like she's carrying a newborn low to her waist and when she steps her footprints sing the bluebirds dead.
she tells me that ambrosia's got to sour sometime and i think it's meant to comfort me because
ii. my muse is a decomposing thing, so ribless and full of holes from where i have scratched her dry.
when i write her sides split open and i try to patch them up but the thread won't hold and there is not room in this ink for the both of us so
sometimes i peek through her torn up hip and snatch a glance of her heart just to see if it's the same and it is
untouched so i think it might be the last to go.
(i think it's cruel.)
she whispers that she always wanted to be a cartographer and i laugh.
iii. my muse is a dying thing, so thin and full of blood and
there is not room in this uneasy frame for the both of us but mmm sometimes i let her inside my bones just to feel them ache.
Literature
Shadows of Whales
What I wanted to say was that I remembered the clouds,
that I watched them paint shadows across the ground,
giant birds of prey gliding across the aether - whales,
lost in a different sea, to float
white and pregnant
with all the sounds of things; thundering out
threats of the sky, sounds full of fury
and the disease that catches you off guard
"Open your door. I must come in."
what I wanted to say was that the echoes are the same
that the pulses of sound are just pieces of the original
instead of slightly dimmer copies
every one a herald
of the silence, soon to come.
I wanted to say things that, maybe, you'd listen to -
that sort of alab
Literature
Hubris.
today
we're younger
than we're ever gonna
be.
i. and we finally did it,
drove to the mountains
watched meteors
and let the mattress
grow damp
under our love
under the stars
ii. there are things to
be reconciled
iii. my eyes sting like
chlorine, but from
crying,
I finally disappointed
them;
the highest order of shame
iv. but you cannot put
people into pockets;
good, bad
don't mix
with them
v. and I cannot choose
who I love
vi. your lenses are straight,
elite and proud
mine, open and accumulating
filth
vii. maybe
I should run away more often,
we never talk like this
viii. and you have to realise
that I live in
Literature
A Note on Drowning
I am writing this letter for myself. If you have found this letter, please give it to me. If you find that I lack the will to read, if my mind is gone, if my hands are bloodied, tell me at least, that the song is near its end. If I am dead [indistinguishable]
[Written in the margin: IF I AM DEAD THROW ME TO THE SEA]
In laying out the bones of my terrors, a solution may be found.
I’ll start before the beginning, when Mother took me for walks on the beach and told stories. Together we missed my father, who sailed the sea. These are my earliest memories, but I remember things had always been this way. We walked together, and I counted m
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when in doubt, categorize as general poetry.
half-scratched on the back of a receipt at 2am when i woke up with this running circles in my head.
half-scratched on the back of a receipt at 2am when i woke up with this running circles in my head.
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Comments8
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Absolutely amazing, a total joy to read. 