The girl plucks her eyes out at 18 and swallows them down with a metal spoon. It nicks her throat and tinges her words red in a way that frightens people and when they ask why it does not heal she says, “The price of truly seeing yourself is never being able to hide at all.”
Secrets get whispered at the sky every night
Even by ten year olds who don’t really believe
Because when you trace your own constellations
Your hearts bound to seep out your eyes and past your lips
the smell of ozone at the aquarium by dandiliondrifter, literature
Literature
the smell of ozone at the aquarium
The heat makes the air crackle like dried leaves in your lungs as we stare at aquamarine turning to midnight blue. I wonder why water looks blue, if it's the sky reflecting off the water or the water reflecting off the sky.
Tell me, do you think it was the chicken or the egg that came first?
The ripples reflected on your face are distorted by the sheen of sweat and your snow cone melts slowly in my hand. Drip.Drop. Water both evaporates and condenses, constantly in flux.
The ice caps are melting slowly, but not always, sometimes they break themselves apart.
Your eyes linger- a puffer fish, a yellow green eel- as I push you past each tank
Upside-down Philosophies by dandiliondrifter, literature
Literature
Upside-down Philosophies
There's a girl standing upside-down on her philosophies thinking about Hamlet and Horatio and more things in life. She would ask "like what?" but all that blood rushing to her head popped the aneurism that came with the answer.
No
The convoluted twisting of time as everything unravels
What is this?
A simple question that can stop a heart and reveal the murkiness of the water
Smile
An easy twitch of muscles taking less effort than a frown but carrying more agony
Silence
This is cold and hard the muted steps apart on a carpeted floor avoiding any evidence
Goodbye
The effort of strangled ignorance when smiles mean nothing and questions remain unanswered
Understanding
The tidy binding of pieces in a swift exhale of breath
Hello
Two people sitting across from each other no less broken
They start with one word
“GET OUT!”
His words were a shout, practically a scream. I could see the strain of his muscles as he shook. It wasn’t just his muscles; it was every fiber of his being quivering as he recoiled trying to stuff everything inside.
“No.”
It was barely over a whisper and I felt a bitter laugh escape my lips before squeezing them into a tight line. He froze for a moment, pupils dilated in a rage that matched my own, and began a hailstorm of flying objects and profanities. But I wouldn’t leave, not again, not that same goddamn cycle just so he could rip himself apart from the inside and leave me with an empty s
Beautiful bird wake up
So I can hear your song again
More mystical than
The silent death of stars
I await your return
Through the winding river of light
That mimics the skies above
Back to this barren wasteland
Of the garden we once tended
Beautiful bird
Beautiful bird
I await your song
She gets off the floor. A tangle of sweat and blood woven across her lips, the crisp taste of iron. In the kitchen are the remains of his plate. She cant remember the shatter of glass or slam of the door as he left. She doesn't really care. When the glass is cleared away she picks up an apple. Placing it against her lips she smells but doesn't taste, an empty habit. Instead she goes to the box of pills, a glass of stale water placed nearby. She no longer wonders if he'll poison her. The faint smell of sweat reminds her to shower and in the bathroom she finds the mirror cracked. She cant remember the beating but knows the blood is hers. For so
The girl plucks her eyes out at 18 and swallows them down with a metal spoon. It nicks her throat and tinges her words red in a way that frightens people and when they ask why it does not heal she says, “The price of truly seeing yourself is never being able to hide at all.”
Secrets get whispered at the sky every night
Even by ten year olds who don’t really believe
Because when you trace your own constellations
Your hearts bound to seep out your eyes and past your lips
the smell of ozone at the aquarium by dandiliondrifter, literature
Literature
the smell of ozone at the aquarium
The heat makes the air crackle like dried leaves in your lungs as we stare at aquamarine turning to midnight blue. I wonder why water looks blue, if it's the sky reflecting off the water or the water reflecting off the sky.
Tell me, do you think it was the chicken or the egg that came first?
The ripples reflected on your face are distorted by the sheen of sweat and your snow cone melts slowly in my hand. Drip.Drop. Water both evaporates and condenses, constantly in flux.
The ice caps are melting slowly, but not always, sometimes they break themselves apart.
Your eyes linger- a puffer fish, a yellow green eel- as I push you past each tank
Upside-down Philosophies by dandiliondrifter, literature
Literature
Upside-down Philosophies
There's a girl standing upside-down on her philosophies thinking about Hamlet and Horatio and more things in life. She would ask "like what?" but all that blood rushing to her head popped the aneurism that came with the answer.
No
The convoluted twisting of time as everything unravels
What is this?
A simple question that can stop a heart and reveal the murkiness of the water
Smile
An easy twitch of muscles taking less effort than a frown but carrying more agony
Silence
This is cold and hard the muted steps apart on a carpeted floor avoiding any evidence
Goodbye
The effort of strangled ignorance when smiles mean nothing and questions remain unanswered
Understanding
The tidy binding of pieces in a swift exhale of breath
Hello
Two people sitting across from each other no less broken
They start with one word
“GET OUT!”
His words were a shout, practically a scream. I could see the strain of his muscles as he shook. It wasn’t just his muscles; it was every fiber of his being quivering as he recoiled trying to stuff everything inside.
“No.”
It was barely over a whisper and I felt a bitter laugh escape my lips before squeezing them into a tight line. He froze for a moment, pupils dilated in a rage that matched my own, and began a hailstorm of flying objects and profanities. But I wouldn’t leave, not again, not that same goddamn cycle just so he could rip himself apart from the inside and leave me with an empty s
Beautiful bird wake up
So I can hear your song again
More mystical than
The silent death of stars
I await your return
Through the winding river of light
That mimics the skies above
Back to this barren wasteland
Of the garden we once tended
Beautiful bird
Beautiful bird
I await your song
She gets off the floor. A tangle of sweat and blood woven across her lips, the crisp taste of iron. In the kitchen are the remains of his plate. She cant remember the shatter of glass or slam of the door as he left. She doesn't really care. When the glass is cleared away she picks up an apple. Placing it against her lips she smells but doesn't taste, an empty habit. Instead she goes to the box of pills, a glass of stale water placed nearby. She no longer wonders if he'll poison her. The faint smell of sweat reminds her to shower and in the bathroom she finds the mirror cracked. She cant remember the beating but knows the blood is hers. For so
i have heard that every woman
is either ophelia or the queen,
either too much or not enough,
either drowning or swimming, either
dying from grief of living with guilt.
but i have run past enough finish
lines in my life to know that sometimes
you give up and sometimes you keep
going until your legs hurt and your
lungs bleed.
what i mean is that i used to forget
that there once was
a version of me that did not
know the twelve shades of blue in
your eyes or what words to use
to describe them.
what i mean is that i still catch myself
thinking about that time i saw
you singing in your kitchen with your
hair down, dancing around to the radio
a list of things colleges don't want to know by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
a list of things colleges don't want to know
1. i have a cactus named atticus that i bought
on the day i thought i was going to die,
and i never forget to water it, not
even when i forget how it feels
to breathe without my lungs rebelling
against my brain.
2. sometimes talking feels like walking on gravel
in a Georgian summer heat.
i try to keep talking anyway,
and hope that eventually
my voice will lose its softness and grow calluses.
3. once, a man whistled at me
outside of a grocery store from
the safety of his car.
four years later, i still haven’t stopped looking
over my shoulder.
4. i drive too fast and i take turns too sharply
and i never put enough sugar
in my tea
what willy loman said by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
what willy loman said
i keep trying to tell you that
the woods are burning, the ocean is flooding,
but you think it’s the summer heat
and the summer rain and you think
this is how it has to be
but it doesn’t it doesn’t
it doesn’t—
and you don’t leave
because you think we have time, but the smoke
is a noose i could hang myself with and
we got jewels and riches and coins but
we don’t got a damn second.