Category Filter: Loath
I’ve never let my ego mar a friendship before
I wanna like you less now every time you best me.
Something gross like noxious nestles in my chest at your successes,
Although all of them consistently impress me.
You do all the things I do but, I guess, better, and I hate it
I am going to dig myself a massive fucking pit
I am going to dig through rock until my palms blister and split
I am going to dig until I sweat out all my tears and spit
I am going to dig this hole and I am going to die it in
Hush,
Sit in the hole,
Fearsome pit.
Smells like mystery, soil and shit
Full of nothing: nothings bliss
Manic pixie nightmare girl
eats your dreams and taints your world
with black and crispy twisty hopes
silken ties that knot like ropes
around your neck
She’s something special
Machiavelli’s secret vessel…
Whipped, like blood runs down burned backs
Fight bubbles, nitrous, in the blood
Sun darkened skin scarred, angry tracks
Rage curdles, boils, tensions run up
Adipose monster suit
Gaiman’s other father
Growing quiet right into my flesh
Trying to bubble over
Sinks it’s tiny little claws in
Brain buzzing
no caffeine
just one million tiny bees
Poke and sting and
All day long
Whine derisive
Busy songs
I want to carve the pieces out you've scarred into my life
But if I take my blade up then I'll be left scarred, but twice
I want to scour the things you think, the way you act, and how you look
To find the peace I had before the liberties you took
I'm consistently so cold that I can
feel it in my teeth,
I just slept for 15 hours but
I want to go back to sleep,
I have an itch so deep inside I'd need a knife to scratch
It's settled in my gut, my wrists, my throat, my heart, my back
I try hard to ignore it, as it's worse the more I think
Try to divert myself with friends and food and work and ink.
I want nothing and
I trust no one
Heartbreak’s inevitable
Pour me another one
I drank up my innocence
That top shelf gullible
Now I buy that ten dollar half gallon vitriol
My life got
visceral,
hungry,
this is all I can do keep thinking
medicinal direction in the form of news-
seems fictional
breath on the edge of my lungs
take respitrol
This Caravan
of slow moving vans is
really getting out of hand
The drivers, being only man,
each surely does the best he can
but
Whisper windows to the walls,
Whisper height to fallen seed,
Whisper rain to heavy clouds,
Havest thou no word for me?
Hello, Lady. Could you be more cruel?
do you think that's how I wanted to picture you?
fawning for your chew toy, full of fluids
I know we've both been open but it's fairly rude.
Like, bitch, "I'm triggered" but genuine
pull my anxiety strings like a mannequin
you're either ignorant of the damage done
or you find pleasure in digging that needle in