Phantomtigers

suis-moi en bas                   en bas                         en bas permettre aux chaînes de rentrer dans ta peau suis-moi dans l'obscurité                              l'obscurité                                         l'obscurité donne-moi ta main suis-moi à travers les plantes grimpantes                                    les plantes grimpantes                                                les plantes grimpantes les plantes grimpantes sont le sumac grimpant boire mon poison, mourir avec moi suis-moi          suis-moi                suis-moi en bas

the devil's horns are digging into my flesh and they never said it would hurt like this. I was raised to be a martyr--but they never told me the meaning of that word. I was lucifer's child and that title was branded upon me with spiteful eyes and cups of blood broken pieces of bodies I was less. corrupted. flawed. fire is what burns in hell and any fire that burnt in me must have been brought along when I was taken from there and I know they were just afraid and that is why they suffocated me. the closest I could get to fading without actually disappearing was becoming water but good girls are not water they are air not seen and not

don’t say it. the embers only ignite if you breathe on the ashes. don’t breathe. rather, breathe; but not with me. the moon has sunk beneath your cheekbones. we do not need to try again. the sun will rise. someone will be your first thought and I will be your exhale. that is alright. don’t say it. once lit it is sure to die. quickly burn, and end our lives. it will sizzle, it will rage, against the dying of its day. it will burn our hands that we so tightly clasp onto the untamable. it will burn our homes. family. friends. natural penance for taking pride in what is sure to vanish. don’t say it.

One day you will realize that I confined you to this heartbeat for your own good; and I hope that you will one day be able to thank me. Leaving you bottled memories for company, and the scalps of people who handed you poison wrapped in your own discarded skin. You reached for me still darkness chained in your judgments: I accepted you and allowed it to taint me. Those who cared for me screamed, biohazard. So I whispered back, victim. You lashed out, wounded and afraid, and I waged war 257 days and 258 nights. As you struggle to the surface of our bed drowning in the blood of battle wounds— remember, as you see my corpse, tha

Il est septembre soir. et je ne suis pas encore respiration. Où est ma promise récupération ?

Suspended in the retrograded ocean of spirits: this auburn turns to glass as soon as I try to break the surface. Unhalted overflowing blunt facts pouring from the 99 bottles of beer (smashed) on the wall, and still the force of the collision between my body and objects is not enough to defibrillate my heartbeat. My blacktop was a colorblind father who could not distinguish between black and blue on my own skin; pumped-up kicks to the abdomen or ribs as screams for help were muted by theology. Home has hit me with the force of a thousand tomorrows (for someone fearing the future while resenting the present and wishing to change

and I shall call it such. volcanoes are my device of normality’s standards; and I will wait 132 days— just to burn (finally live). I will brand my arms with the shards of sky falling down and call you blind. you can imprint yourself on my cornea, (although my eyes are already halfway shut) and call me languid: oh so unwell. but; friend, lover, mother, father, sister, brother, son, daughter, today is not the day that I subdue my flaws. today is the day that I crumble: disintegrate and reform from my dissipation. turning my sins to ashes and ashes to lungs so I can breathe despite being entombed by eruptions out of my cont

she wrapped her fingers (creeping up slowly like that weed in your garden that you wish would die off and never return.) around his, tightly. (suffocating the life out of him as well, and dragging him down into her depression.) she promised to never let go, (because then who would keep her from drowning.) and she told him teasingly, that she would always be his personal problem. (and she meant it like a promise but really it just sounded like a curse.) her words honestly came across anything other than playful. (because her saying that, said everything she really didn’t want to say.)