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Literature Text
he drank,
gallons of it.
whiskey eyes and
silhouettes against skylines,
compressed together like
the lies pressed between his teeth
turned to truths.
he wanted me to join him, but
no pressure.
i would much rather be the stabilizer than
the one-upper, anyway,
the tipsy duo,
out-stumbling each other on the way into headlights and
streams of moonbeams shining bright in
aurora skies
(it's the drink).
no, thanks.
i say and
i just want to take care of him.
(but he can take care of himself
he says
he shows
he projects
he's fine he's fine
he'll be okay and
i know).
i know.
but i watched him drink until
i couldn't see his soul through the clouds in
his eyes and
i wondered if he was even inside there
anymore.
(he joked he's an alcoholic.
i'm a firm believer that
behind every joke is a
fraction of truth).
gallons of it.
whiskey eyes and
silhouettes against skylines,
compressed together like
the lies pressed between his teeth
turned to truths.
he wanted me to join him, but
no pressure.
i would much rather be the stabilizer than
the one-upper, anyway,
the tipsy duo,
out-stumbling each other on the way into headlights and
streams of moonbeams shining bright in
aurora skies
(it's the drink).
no, thanks.
i say and
i just want to take care of him.
(but he can take care of himself
he says
he shows
he projects
he's fine he's fine
he'll be okay and
i know).
i know.
but i watched him drink until
i couldn't see his soul through the clouds in
his eyes and
i wondered if he was even inside there
anymore.
(he joked he's an alcoholic.
i'm a firm believer that
behind every joke is a
fraction of truth).
Literature
Enough
My skin is pale with blinding hopes; shotty wishes that strike my sins well.
Hollow, humming wells that've never been more dry and cold.
Feeble in the wake of a Goddess
And miserable in the light of day.
Superb at his timely drunken stupor,
From where Repetition leaves one in a glass half empty;
Mercury to the brim.
Grey and dense, I am.
My mind is black with tangled thoughts; painful ideas that threaten to choke.
Twisted, twined masses of thread that’ve never been more choatic and torrid.
Anemic in the aftermath of a divine Man
And melancholic in the light of day, feeling less than.
First-rate when she consumes poison.
From where str
Literature
pride 2017
bleached tangerine hair and
aggressive queer vibes, rainbow capes and
ripped denim, flannels and
boys in lipstick
boys with mascara
girls with suspenders and
brown boots –
we took the city in our hands and
clutched tight; said
“our palms cannot burn
because this is what we’re made of – ”
and there was noise
and shouting and us, existing
unapologetic & angry and
authentic, it tastes
Literature
to get out of my head
and before inhaling
those sweet crumbs laced with
self-destruction i
met the
the biggest drug dealer in the city
last night, but
dont tell him i said that
says he who works beneath him
and sometimes asks to kiss me --
gave me a beautiful, soft
two-dollar teddy bear
he purchased with
dirty money
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Comments5
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This is such a statement of truth!