SaeglopurHe's scarred you,Saeglopur by LexiDreams
but he's healed you.
Would you write him off so easily?
He's been your survival but
he's stuck needles in your
Would you write him off so easy?
He's been kind, he's been
kind, you've stayed.
Is that not your answer?
What is happiness to need?
Would you wash
away this blood and
(the surviv)all it connects?
You've pulled down on the stream
Taken your mouthfuls
Would you refuse to give?
Would you block such a flow
now? Your scars twisting along
your veins, form
Would your family of choice
be written by such blood?
When you feel powerless
the only card you feel
you hold is to never forgive.
Will you back out of
my life in aprili.my life in april by LexiDreams
I'm hooked up in my room, my brother's hooked up in his
He spends his days in gamer culture, I spend mine in social justice culture
We live most entirely in completely different worlds, even though there's only a wall between us
And sometimes we speak and it's in different languages.
Do you know that feeling where, you're tensed, and you don't even know you're tensed,
Until something happens and you detense, feel the relief,
Is that the constant feeling from you not being here and wanting you to be, a normalization of longing
Of waiting, and I won't even know relief until you're back.
Last year on this day I was scarring your name onto my collar bone so I wouldn't forget you, and now I'm walking through the forest to find an ocean, finding an ocean, collecting clam shells the color of bruises, I step on moss covered rocks and feel I'm pressing on someone's ribcage, and there are pine cones in the trees and yellow flowers, and the culmination of the day is my saying why the
getting darkSalt mouth, drygetting dark by LexiDreams
Trembling, peeling, greasy itch
I slit my skin with the sharp teeth of letters
Because that's what "fucked up" people do
Thoughts turn cloudy, foamy, slick
The branches of my future leading out have rotted
Turn out the lights
Fingers type inkblots
In the dark I am doing chemistry
Wet, I can see the curve of the moon around its fingernail
I spill the cups of these letter's hollows
Forgetting their contents were held in my hands
Thoughts lose color, tremble, flick
My muse's mouth summersaults, inverts, says
Take these letters and try to see in the dark
Write yourself into existence, or else
Hold up your dying along the lines, it's scaffolding
Make a house with long Greek pillars
Find some affirmation in staining a white page
Not a home, but a house for others to pass-by and see,
There's a light.
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I used to imagine your funeral.
Used to imagine your death would be the mechanism by which I would wake up.
Because I loved you so much.
Some people take metal to their skin, but
I used to imagine what it would be like with someone else.
Because surely this isn’t what perfect is. Surely, it could be better, always better.
Just a little trade off, a temporary deal, to see if that was the best the world could be.
I have loved and forgotten.