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Literature Text
most nights,
it takes a war to close
my eyes, & even then i
still see monsters.
my mind is a cemetery
full of whispers
best not mentioned
(because you'd never
believe me if i told you).
i just want to be free.
to wake up with a
craving for sunshine &
supernovas nestled in my
rib cage, instead of thorns
beneath my skin & bones
between my teeth.
Literature
Star-crossed
You woke up on
the wrong side of
a cosmic bed
A pillow of
nebulae,
crushed
under your head
Meteorites
are all the tears
which you have shed
Your ring finger
is Saturn,
yet
remains unwed
Forever lost
in outer space
among a dreamed
starry array
Your light shines bright
lightyears away
but not enough
to seize the day
Star-crossed
and vaccum-cleaned,
sleep-tossed
and solar-weaned
Let your love be
a tesseract-
then I'll wish to
become Titan.
Literature
Sometimes, you enjoyed being blind.
Over 1,000 letters have found their way
to the pulsating heart of my wastebasket.
Until you.
You carried them away saying, "I'll use these
to fill the empty spaces of my universe."
You proceeded to tape them to your eyelids,
wear them like Augusts leaves along your limbs.
"I will be your voice and I will sing your words to the trees."
Slender spider fingers prancing across my misspelled scrawl.
Literature
Necromancy
She thinks there are nebulae
in the rough of my gutter bones,
some stargazing sanctuary
for lonely outcasts to lay their heads.
I am but a car crash,
spellbound
inside eyelids,
& red inked corrections
on crosshatched skin.
Made up of moans,
the clutching of bedsheets;
I am contemplating
ripping my ribs apart
& proving
I never had a heart at all.
But my moon shy love;
she is determined
to try & wake the dead.
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also known as nightmares.
© 2013 - 2024 lupus-astra
Comments32
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Oh that first stanza.