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Literature Text
she starves herself for the aesthetic of it.
they say,
wintergirl, it's spring now,
but she is buried in regrets or snowflakes or ashes
they all burn
and her skin isn't ready to forgive her.
these rivers will not thaw,
crawling up the bones pushing through her skin
waiting for the hot spring(s),
but they're all asleep.
her breathing is getting slower
and her body is growing colder
please eat something
but she keeps counting calories
when she should be counting stars.
they say,
wintergirl, it's spring now,
but she is buried in regrets or snowflakes or ashes
they all burn
and her skin isn't ready to forgive her.
these rivers will not thaw,
crawling up the bones pushing through her skin
waiting for the hot spring(s),
but they're all asleep.
her breathing is getting slower
and her body is growing colder
please eat something
but she keeps counting calories
when she should be counting stars.
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Literature
Epitaph Eyes
I'll never forget tracing your ghostly skin, your lace-like veins.
Your epitaph eyes and how I tasted suicide on your lips that night.
Literature
Eyes and smiles
So many beautiful eyes
And so little smiles
Literature
cancer-eyes, cancer-eyes,
(i think i had wings, once, back when the
world still looked a little lighter
than the darkness--)
i.
they told me, darling, we've got
some news about that
sickness in your bones; but not to worry, not
to worry, we'll try our best to find a way...
ii.
i used to think 'our best' was good enough, back
when i could stand on my own
two feet without slipping and sliding
as the world turned sideways; back when i was younger
and staring at the pillows on the bed
at the fallen-out hair lying on the crisp white
linen; and as tears rolled through
my eyelashes the apologies
poured from parent's lips, whispering promises that
tomorrow will b
Suggested Collections
let's play spot the reference because i'm unoriginal
NaPoWriMo day 4.
NaPoWriMo day 4.
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Comments25
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I feel this one too close to my heart. 