deliver me, let me sink with my demons.

a writing sideblog

[metamorphesque]

— This year again there is spring, Halina Poswiatowska

[metamorphesque]

— Sylvia Plath, from "Letters Home"

[text ID: I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.]

[flowerytale]

Margaret Atwood, from “Late Poems”, Dearly

[funnytwittertweets]

[headspace-hotel]

"Dragon," poem assembled using quotations from Wikipedia articles

[headspace-hotel]

"Asteroid," poem assembled from quotations from Wikipedia articles

[apricotmoons]

welcome to hell

the cold wind has stopped blowing for the third year in a row, and the heat always brings closer the people i know. we sing songs about love and heartbreak, too and every one i write is dedicated to you.

i’m out here burning fingers on the frets of a red guitar singing my love songs under summer stars. but inside i’m boiling, a love just for you beautiful and delicate, sweet as morning dew.

listen my love, to the words of this song, and tell me you love me too, don’t let me be wrong. you’ve got the key, now open the cell but if you refuse, i’d be welcomed in hell.

​@flashfictionfridayofficial

[apricotmoons]

from march 24

i hear distant thunder,  as i sit home and wonder, where your footprints are fallin’ now. the sky’s gettin’ gloomy, and the wind’s gettin’ to me, why’d you have to leave me last fall.

winds churn and tornadoes flare when you said you didn’t think i’d care if you lived, or if the lighting took you down. but darlin’, i loved you it was the rain i couldn’t live through, too much water always chokes me up somehow.

i’d always craved a drought but heaven has no doubt that new life also neeeds the tempest. a dark drying gray day, the truth is you’re still away, both me and the land are now parched.

[metamorphesque]

— franz kafka, from a letter to max brod

[linkinmoon]

Ada Limón interviewed by Lauren LeBlanc

[tamiscolaris]

uhh a poem inspired by @headspace-hotel 's wikipedia poetry

[headspace-hotel]

THIS IS INCREDIBLE HOW do I articulate how I feel about this. Every layer of this metaphor punched me directly in the soul.

A whale fall is Communion?

Communion is a whale fall?????

[crittizen]

this is a poem

[wa-u-moved]

i couldn’t not draw this

[someonesfavoriteworstnightmare]

the rat poem is too powerful that’s why they don’t talk about it

[apricotmoons]

"cold body"

why didn't they tell me the consequence of beauty? like a cold body in a morgue, frozen &, empty. i'm paralyzed until the blood filled flesh of the necrophiliac infiltrates. dead skin sloughing off with every thrust.

why didn't they tell me the prince doesn't exist? no matter how much i sleep or squeeze my feet into glass heels or overdose on apples, that he will never appear? princes & knights are far off fighting dragons & making martyrs. yes, beauty enchants, and lures them in, a single tune on the wind. but like the sailor that you loved before he must return to his battles at sea.

why didn't they tell me the truth? they always said to have loved and lost is better than a lonely heart. but every time i'm pushed off the mountain & every time i'm placed like a jewel on that shelf, i fall & shatter. dusty and unused must be better than bloody and broken.

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

[apricotmoons]

if you take the time to type your poem (with revisions!) when the web browser is tiny, and then you want to go a review it so you make the browser full screen it will definitely delete your poem.

[ryebreadgf]

september, s.t.

[apricotmoons]

avarice

is it really that bad? if i want, desire, hope for? if i’ve ever yearned, it’s been on the arm of an over-enthusiastic appetite i’ve never been able to fill. myself, i am empty. my objects made of gold and pearls - they surround me. my cakes drooling with rich frostings - they surround me. my weed of life that allows entrance to the inner world - it surrounds me a veil of smoke, a delphic oracle. premonitions of acquisition fall off my cheek, inky tears on a page full of more wants, more needs. i have never been full, my swollen gut knows no bounds. and still, i put in, i put in more and more endless fuel for things that never please me. the yellow demon inside, dances a jig, for he will never be satiated. (and truly, i hope we will never be.)

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

[apricotmoons]

at least i’m not constantly talking to the you in my head anymore. i still hear your voice trumpeting the chords and i still love the taste of limes, but i’ll never know what happens when the three of us mix. you look past my eyes, never into. you listen to my stories, but you don’t fuel my imagination. you lick the salty sweat from the stage lights but you’ve never let me hold your mouth in mine. it’s a mad girl’s desire, this one of mine, and i can’t even be sure it’s true. are feelings made on first meetings alone? i loved you before the song was over. or are feelings manufactured by an intense rush of attention, one that you do give me, maybe just enough. i’d love for this to be, a promise but a distance, a vow but one that flies down highways in the night, the streetlights flashing in time with the heartbeats, and when we think about each other both get faster. but i’m the only one that crashes. burns inside, a churning lava pit that reached out like willow tendrils that curl around my heart. hostage, it’s chained and unable to move. i can’t trust my heart anymore, it beats he loves me, he loves me not, but the daisy petals never said it was only the attention i craved. there was no love in return to be had, only a small morsel that “yea, we can still be friends” is built on. but we won’t and you’ll leave and fall down, down, and apart into another woman’s heart, and i’ll be stuck on you like glue. and i won’t ever ever know what to do.