Recanting Ghosts (urgent TW/intense triggers)
creepingmyrtle: fluidly: Read More Read it. Unless you’re not in a good place to read something with very strong triggers, which I absolutely understand, read it. One of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever seen on tumblr, perhaps anywhere. (thank you)
can you hear us yes i hear you like shuffling of muddy hands and feet a crawl of queasy predators loud laughing of the pack and yes i hear you and every day you press my wrists a little harder bring me closer bring me closer to your lips and whisper bitter on my skin until my skin just peels off i wish i’d take the knife up to your throats and open up a treasury of wings...
i wandered soft the breadth of light tightened shoulders with my body as my wound i bathed in dew and cooler waters but my fingers touched the fire and i was burned into the breath of darkness where i inhaled space got drunk on stars and fell because i couldn’t see and in the two my body broke a little more i bled a little more but i found the moon i found the...
letter #30 06 2012
[[MORE]]I’ve cried four times today. I am so full of everything and undone by nothing because of it. I want to do something with my writing and my photography for the first time in years, but all I can do is post either on tumblr and hope for the best. What is my life amounting to? What do I want it to amount to? I selfishly wish you were with me, and we were somewhere else. That maybe we...
she stalks our scent like bloodhounds with a new and plastic face and god how she possesses air tracking poison through each place
temperature (29 06 2012)
can our hearts destroy worlds breathing earthquakes while they swell like broken limbs i sometimes think there’s real fire in us and our skin will burn away but quiet said the shadows to the other ghosts in me your heart is getting colder (though the fire won’t be free)
We suspended hums like songbirds distanced from a train wreck, and her breath brushed against my collarbones. We danced then, young lovers wrought by iron lungs and promises we later forgot; the old are wrought by memories, and our veins knew no ancient sadness then. [[MORE]] “Keep me,” she said to me. “Keep me close, keep me warm. Keep me.” I felt the softness of her heart inside her chest:...
letter #29 06 2012
I privatized my last letter (#28). I’m sorry if you read it already. I repeat things often and repeat them worse each time. I’m a maddened stage of replication, as if my fears and furies are rapid-growing flowers that wither to make way for more vivid children. No one should spurn me. I don’t say this for their own good but selfishly for my own good. It’s that fast-evolving...
close 29 06 2012
we’re buried in your fists squeezed until the blood runs out until our chest pains bottom out our throat until we break until we break until our body shatters and our words can’t speak in volumes anymore quiet quiet quiet said the pit inside our stomach expel the nausea and smile at the bond the bond that’s wound to choke and bound to trip our tongue we can never spit...
j.05.rc (puzzle 29 06 2012)
i felt solid ground beneath me when ocean miles swelled below calm in un-calm words adolescent arms around my adolescent instability i never thought i loved you and i know i didn’t still all that gentleness inside your eyes and [[MORE]] i think i will forget you yes someday i will forget you (and cast our pieces out to sea)
my worst poetry is when i try to write something...
“how are you today?” “i wish i could cut my heart out with a hot poker.” “……” “what did i say”
gift/gift 29 06 2012
it broke its skull to look inside but choked on dust on silence on the chill of winter wind so we held it in our arms and soothed its tired love and violence and we kissed it on its skin and bought it bows to make the scars so beautiful and so beautiful so precious they became
wearing 28 06 20120
i tasted blood between my teeth today today with spitting spinning suns and drooling skin and skin as hot as summer sidewalks i measured steps by pain and measure worth by pain that measures taste for measuring forward forward hustle shuffle blistered feet and bleeding nails and you see i wanted worlds when i woke this morning all but this one and i think i broke in pieces and those...
I think I'm just in a mood where I don't want to...
“breaking skin from the inside”
Recanting Ghosts (urgent TW/intense triggers)
[[MORE]] Blessed be thy name whose tired, toxic air bleeds through your lazy lips. It’s an open staring contest: The white walls watching—watching—to beat your bloated pupils. They skirt the cracks driven through the plaster like the voices cracking, crackling, crack: Static-static noise that beats beneath your skull. I’ve seen fine bones in my time, it whispers those wounded words within...
pangs 28 06 2012
their smiles catch inside my throat and language ties its heaving poisoned arms tight around my neck and i’ve learned my solitude takes practice and i know solitude is art but the newest pills are bloating me and damaging my heart i feel breathless and my hands are like a necklace (and i have trouble with the clasp)
letter #27 06 2012
I’m out of it. “Slipping onto my knees and to the floor because I can’t walk” out of it. I took a four hour nap today because life became more than a bad dream. There are brief seconds where I scream, and I can hear so much pain in my voice it even scares me. Most hours I’m fine, but it’s those lazy afternoon hours that make me sick to my stomach, like my...
i sing in secrets while i sleep my voice will crack and will allude to different people different moods and i un-sew in empty sleep (i’ve bled my life between the sheets)
how do you guys feel about me putting up my longer...
there's a sad and silent beauty in vulnerability,...
on finishing maps
i shot the sun and the pistol snapped my hands in thirds i caught its trigger in my mouth and fell onto the fields — the world bred in rasping stretches where the darkness went so long and far the lapsing of the clocks the conversations after dark when nobody was there i felt the earth shake and grieve beneath me but in the end our deaths had won we were all as far as...
26 06 2012 ( i
we drown in noise and our head knocks fireworks against our wrists and we march wounded soliders bled for more than this and filing before foundations of death we cried all four seasons we marched and we marched and we marched with the end of our lives in our breath
e mrm va
i remember seeing you for the first time — a jolt upon my lips to a smile and i know we’d only talked a while but how beautiful it was because how beautiful you were gentle palmed and poetry upon your quiet lips
I often wonder if my starry-eyed, more direct poetry was more widely embraced, but then I remember how few people had followed me for my writing than for my character. That being said, now that I’ve become so bitter, I appreciate the followers I have left and have gotten. I appreciate you because I know you appreciate me as an artist or at the very least feel I’m worth making fun of...
new york pt 26 06 2012
“Proactive” reminds me of hospital staff chiding me on my belief system and lack of hobbies and lack of initiative in making friends, so you’re not alone in disliking that word, even though I’ve used it several times myself. Yes, I think you know I prefer the 24:00 time too. I’ve started picking up on my pretentious attitude now though and I’m feeling as though...
lane-l answered your question: my writing sucks right now. suggestions or advice? Have you ever thought of writing about anything different? Like different emotions you haven’t thought of recently? I have thought about it, especially more recently. I feel my writing is getting dreadfully redundant but seeing as I feel nothing else, think about nothing else, I don’t know what to do. (oh god...
i touched an empty grave sat wonderless against the new-spun soil and i held my own hands and i cried at the inelegance of an elegant mid-night find me she said (ghost of the wrong rotting walls) the flowerbed wilted the songbirds are dead and i’m meant for this grave i am meant for this grave we drowned her in the river with her eyes (so lonely) free and in the storms she learned to...
jackmcentee answered your question: my writing sucks right now. suggestions or advice? Don’t push it, don’t critique yourself so hard, relax, have a cup of tea then come back to it. I know it’s not what you want. But it’ll help. starfalls answered your question: my writing sucks right now. suggestions or advice? Write for five minutes straight. No stopping. See what happens? Or maybe read...
my writing sucks right now. suggestions or advice?
starfalls answered your question: (prose too if applicable) what pieces of mine do you like best? I like all of your work the best! And wake is my absolute favorite. Thank you!
(prose too if applicable) what pieces of mine do...
everything more or less has titles now.
I’m going to write you another letter, and since we’re doing this, I’m going to start titling just in case the random things work out. [[MORE]] How many people in the world do you think wish at 11:11? In how many cities do you think that kind of thing is whispered and how many people follow that tradition? I wonder when it started. I wonder what the thought was. I wonder why we...
lane-l answered your question: (prose too if applicable) what pieces of mine do you like best? all of them. thank you. this made me smile on a tumultuous day. <3
solitary sicknesses catch fast in- town as if the earth beneath it gets too queasy knowing people turn so quick so quick too easy and there’s blood in the seed of the grass and there’s heart tissue in their pockets and poison on their palms and it’s okay sung psalms and handshakes and the earthquakes in their gut (or are there) and the buildings cry like...
It’s one of my favorite letters, too. I don’t think I’ve conveyed anything so well and so genuinely. My journal entries are often not as detailed or honest as what I write to you. It’s okay not to feel safe sometimes. You know that though. You know everything I could tell you — “I understand,” “I love you,” “I will keep you as safe as I...
creepingmyrtle answered your question: (prose too if applicable) what pieces of mine do you like best? It shall take a while to go through the lot of them and review, but I will get back to you on this! ahh thank you so much <3
(prose too if applicable) what pieces of mine do...
I think you should pick a letter. Any one. Or two. Or three. Consolidate them if you choose more than one and reply to it without reservation. Do not watch your step or count your beats. I know your heart has no spout like mine but I’d like to see it someday and to get a glimpse of it tomorrow will help us, I think. This week has swung me into complete cognitive chaos, and I’m reeling...
23 06 2012 3
cool saturn whispers rings into my ears a wild thirst to leave and wilder thirst to weave through different breaths of universal stories to find the oldest matter beg its language from its tongue are we touched by death * i feel fears of long forevers in my eyes i’ve seen that nothing is immortal and yet nothing seems to die
hollowed eyes hollowed hollowed eyes hollow hollow hollow) in her absences of blood she rakes her nails down the walls until the world cranes their necks for her for her for her for her a crying token is seeded in her palms and here she’ll crush it while it cries because there’s nothing hollow nothing hollow nothing hollow something useful in someone...
it crushes them with drowning to board the powdered waves as if glass were ever beautiful with blood and it crushes them to feel the heat to laugh to cry so deeply and to feel what is never felt with them rotting in its insides but flame upon flame upon flame upon flame the heat explodes the tears tear down its skin do not crush them do not crush them remember now the...
fluidly: it hunts the smell of cyanide and copper and in copper words with copper tongues it climbs the hill and all its wrungs the smell of poison smell of pitch jump the ladder swim the ditch
retreating light in ancient spaces dewy sight with sleepy eyes a stare befalls the cracks befalls the fine long crevices (of wisps a ghost has trailed with inelegant unstable hands) i see the moon ,” i said ” and see the stars and see the nighttime smells and and hear the nighttime textures i feel heart- beats a heart bleeding and a summer lasting...
(human static ) heated silences and cooling conversation bleeding clothes or swallowed cloth ( sleeves are not a tug- of-war but) fire fuels the ice and ice tends to fuel the fire
22 06 2012 3
please surrender said the shadows with bright bows about their heads why try crawling from the cellar when it welcomes you instead
22 06 2012 2
i’ve climbed back into the cannon settled between ash and dust and grease and i feel bloody banners at my feet begging me to cease fire cease the fire but fires like this do not die and fire fuels the fire fuels the fire and i pull myself back into hell— push my body forward to the fire of the suns and i wonder why i wonder why art’s so fire-spun
22 06 2012
wet crushed glass copper stench and bare feet to nurse the dark
this day has been so surreal. like a blur.
trivial themes grew sick and spent love guised as love is poisoned ale but overtones got cracked and bent and love as love will burn its veil — ( and there we were in fire and we watched her rip our seams but love was hers with gyves and pyre love as love as love it seems )
fluidly: empty vessel how it cries breathe into it your shadows make it full and make it wise make it scared and scarred and starry eyed so that the fire burns and burns and burns behind its small and stretching skull hold it close hold it close and teach it how to reach its insides how to pull its blood by dreaming crush the stories in its bones let it...