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it's been twelve weeks since i spoke your name
but last night i dreamt of you:
you put your hand on my cheek,
turned my face to yours, and kissed me.
(your palms were sweaty and the kiss was sloppy,
but i didn't care because your lips were on mine)
the last time i saw you, we were at a church dinner:
i brought brownies and you had three.
for a moment i was ecstatic and then
your brother brought up women.
("the thinner, the better", that's what you said,
and i knew that i would never have a chance)
2017 Reading Challenge
.....challenge me. Give me shit to read. I read ~40 books in 2016; I want to double that this year.
currently
inching my way through my inbox.
only checking visual art deviations right now; will get to literature later.
expect +fave spam for the next few days.
you don't have to thank me. *m*
I apologize for my inability to comment.
just because:
have some pictures of me & my love :heart:
we got all dressed up and went to the local hookah lounge, it was splendiferous
the trees are standing all sticks and bones
“October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
I haven't been active on here in forever. Every week or two I log on, cast a despairing gaze over the mounting numbers in my inbox, and slowly drag my cursor back to the little red x one more time. I haven't written anything in forever, either, and I can feel the creative parts of my brain slowly shrivelling into nuggets. Going to try to change that, hopefully.
A l
it's been a good year for the roses
what the fuck are you doing?!
her fingers skitter through the drawer,
utensils rattling like blunted wind chimes
fuck you, that's what!
in the bedroom, the baby is crying:
he grabs her arm and snatches the knife
that she chopped vegetables with
(was it only last night?) and holds it high
give it back! I hate you!
you wanna hurt yourself? -
quit being such a fucking bitch about it!
one - two - three - four -
he doesn't even feel the skin peel back,
but when he sees the blood
spurt from his arm, he wonders,
is this seeing red?
everything is a blur of adrenaline and rage
she screams, twists away from him,
and slams her head i
© 2015 - 2024 dietcocaine
Comments1
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Nice poem. I hope you feel better.