daisy's last poem

It was with eloquent larceny that he
gained my eloquent heart.
He snuck inside with pernicious claws,
easily removing my brain and beating organs,
replacing it with liquid nitrogen and venom.

That first kiss felt like riding through
a carwash, locked inside
a phantasmagoric dishwasher of colors.
But all of my paint chipped clean away,
leading to a final kiss of lead and decay.

via *

lay me down tonight in my linen and curls

Last night I plucked the moon from the sky and shoved it straight down my throat. All this time they've told us it was made of curdled milk. It was made of sugar cookie dough and crinkled happily down my throat as it made its way down. The sugar dust stayed on my fingers and I sucked it all out from under my nail beds while I thought of you, no longer able to see the moon gazing down at you.

You didn't deserve her. The moon is made of pure dust and smells like fresh tulips in the first garden sprout of spring. She couldn't stand to look at you as you made your way down the street each night, sneaking in and out, promising love to one and yanking it away from another.

I drove comfortably down the street toward home, missing all of the usual potholes because these were my roads. I followed gently along the curves like how I trace the space between the moles on my arm. I trace them myself, while your fingers rot off and twist lifelessly down in the cement of your heart. I trace them and feel the moon bubbling in my throat and glowing in my chest.

via *

a matter of truth

I think I've discovered some of the biggest secrets in life right here, shoved into my pillow case. There are some truths out there that are so seemingly obvious, so simple that they almost become a cliche. Cliches don't have a lot of respect in this world but they are cliched for a reason, right? Sometimes being reminded of those simple truths could save a life or fix a broken heart.

Here are some of the simple truths I have discovered recently. I hope that some of these can help you too.

You have to love yourself and you have to love others. At the end of the day, all we have is humanity and our fellow man. Human beings are capable of profound feelings that I will never begin to understand, but watching the insanity that is a human existence unfold before your eyes is a gift that deserves to be treasured. Treasure each other and treasure history. History matters because for all of these years on this Earth, those people who have come before you have cried like you, laughed like you, screamed like you, bled like you. Learn their feelings and empathize with those struggles. Go to those places that are screaming with history and soak it all in because the tens of millions of people that have passed through this Earth deserve that respect and our thirst for knowledge. We are all humans and that needs to be respected and loved.

Love yourself. Please, know how lovely and good you are and can be. The potential you hold in your fingertips could build empires or crumble everything into ruins. You can be unstoppable and beautiful. Help yourself down that path toward beauty and creation by loving your body and your skin and your mind. Have fun in this life and have fun in your skin.

Do not let anyone destroy you without your consent. Here is the biggest secret I have learned, my loves: You are in charge of who is in your life and at what capacity. YOU pick who surrounds you and what energy you let in. The Daisy Buchanan's in this world are gorgeous and they offer you pretty things. When a Daisy shines their eyes across you, it is easy to feel special and singled out but I promise you that you mean nothing to them. If someone tells you they are horrible or careless, believe them. They most likely mean it. And if they don't, what a horrible and juvenile lie for attention.

I went through a break up recently that was needless and cruel but it changed me so completely. I feel as though it made me more empathetic and less so. Less patient and more patient. Lovelies, you are not required to keep venomous people in your life. I felt so destroyed by being in this relationship that I just sort of... remained because I felt too small to leave. That was a horrible lesson but I'm grateful for it. You get to control how venomous people are in your life. YOU. You decide if you make the frightening decision to make it their responsibility to change or if you are smart and adult enough to suck their poison from your life. You get to decide how to live and change.

Change is so hard, I know. But if you know what to do, change. Let that rush drive you against a wall and suffer if you have to but I promise you that everything will get better and you will be ok. Don't let yourself stay miserable. Choose to move on. If you don't, remember your life and your misery is on you and nobody else. Life is too beautiful to miss out on because someone gives you such horrific anxiety that you can't eat for five months or because someone makes you feel small.

Fill your lungs with air, breathe in and out, and love. Love until your heart is full to bursting. Then fill it even more.

I love you. So so much.

via *

bulletproof, in black like a funeral

I told you once of how my breath melted and dripped down my ribcage. You told me that wasn't possible and said I should stop stretching my words until they had no meaning. Unsurprisingly, my words were right and you were wrong. You turned my breath to icicles that stuck all over my vital organs and made my skin feel like the unexplored Arctic. When the lights shut off and anxiety swarmed like bees in the cracks between my bones, the friction snapped the ice apart and let it all melt down until it was bursting and waterfalling down my ribs. Your ice box soul slammed my velvet heart into a corner and melted me away. I promise you my breath was melting.

But now my breath is growing and sprouting in the early summer sun. I'll wear black because it makes me feel like sex and power and home and not because I want to disappear. I'll listen to all the songs I thought belonged to you until they're mine again and your breath, your eyes, your jaw are dead and gone. I'll reclaim them one by one and seek a voice that's full of sunshine and not radiation. 

via *

the daisies

I shut the light off and bathed in the dark. I let the black velvet water come to nearly the top of the tub until only my neck and head were left uncovered. The music that was playing embraced me like you never did, seeping down through the water and sliding across my skin. It was like an underwater cathedral in my darkened tub and my body was the altar, finally learning to praise itself again.

When the humidity finally loosened my cough, I coughed up the daisies you planted carelessly along my heart. They were bright and sick and smelt like lies. After all of this, I have learned something after all. Don't trust the daisies; they keep poison in pretty packages.

via *

internal

We used to have screaming matches on the playground. My friends and I would clench our tiny fists and squeeze our eyes tighter than exploding stars and let our vocal chords rip into the afternoon air. I always won.

There isn't enough real screaming in the adult world. It's all turned internal or into razor blades and bourbon. My lungs are aching and punching for a chance to let a scream slit the sky into shatters. They want to lacerate my ribcage and tear my esophagus into ribbons.

The killer in all of this? Our teachers would always run to us when we had our screaming matches and check our knees for scabs and our elbows for freckles of blood. But now if I let out a scream no one would come running.

via *

constructing the interstate

the body was made of pure cement.
each rib glued together.
thumb tacks lining the mortar between each nerve.
the hair was the hardest to pin down.
it was wild, covering the
body's face and obscuring the leakage
pouring from the blank spaces
where manhole covers were still needed.
holes for men to climb down into
the sewage lined heart,
the shit infested wasteland constantly
dumped on by countless men before.
the hair was the problem.
it made the body seem alive.
the hair must burn.
the body must be broken down
again. jackhammered.
traffic backed up.
the body reopened with each passing semi,
questioned if there was a reason
for this destruction at all.

scorpion venom

It was easy for ninety people
to drink eighty bottles of wine.

It's hard to paint
the tumors hot pink,
to let all of the venom in the world
eat up your blood and sting your
stomach lining.

It was so hard to feel my breath
and my bones turn to ashes
while I tried to look happy
to still be here.

In the violet hour before
it all begins again, I can hear
the other side calling so softly.
Like moths burning on a light bulb.

I'm so close- closing my eyes
is so goddamned easy.

But then they all come through
the door and I snap back to myself.
The weapons won't be laid down today.
Dying is much too easy.

Let's make Hell wish it could have me.

via *