cain @cainvstheworld - Tumblr Blog

sonofcainn

nocturneandbone

forgottenflickr

2009

pairs-studio

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak (I texted her again)

Minneapolis, USA by Cain Birch

For Renee Nicole Good. May her heart go home. May everyone detained, deported, or otherwise separated go home.

[Text ID: Minneapolis, USA by Cain Birch. For Renee Nicole Good. How do you kill Good? / You fire three times / in the space of a heartbeat, / miss twice, plunge once / through the windshield. // How do you kill Good? / You watch Good’s car teeter / down the icy street, smack / and smash and smoke. // How do you kill Good? / You leave Good’s wife / collapsed on the sidewalk, / wind biting numb skin, / the good and the light of her life / ripped from hands she cannot feel. // How do you kill Good? / You ignore the blood / on the airbag, across / the crayoned pictures signed / with a six-year-old scrawl. // How do you kill good? / You pay masked men to spray / bullets into sanctuaries, shelters, / every bright corner of the country, / then scrub the blood / from their soft palms / and go home. // Good does not go home. / Good lies crooked over the steering wheel. /End ID]

#poem #poetry #poet #writing #minneapolis #renee nicole good

cainvstheworld

Zack from Hinge by Cain Birch

(deleting Hinge for a while)

[Text ID: Zack from Hinge by Cain Birch. If you didn’t want to talk to a freak like me, you shouldn't have matched with a five-four fag, shouldn’t have told him your favorite Pokémon is Gliscor, shouldn’t have called him one sexy motherfucker in his Rodrick Heffley costume, eyelined and gleaming, shouldn’t have offered to bench press all one-hundred-thirty pounds of him, shouldn’t have let him admit he’d kiss your red lips before the horror movie’s title screen. Shouldn’t have let him ask how you’d feel if he told you he was transgender. Shouldn’t have stretched the silence for five minutes, six. Shouldn’t have unmatched him without a word. Should have shed your cowardice like a winter coat. Should have spit out slurs, pierced his springy skin. Should have known that a stinging wound is easier to bear than someone’s soundless shame. /End ID]

#a stinging wound is easier to bear than someone's soundless shame!!!

Zack from Hinge by Cain Birch

(deleting Hinge for a while)

[Text ID: Zack from Hinge by Cain Birch. If you didn’t want to talk to a freak like me, you shouldn't have matched with a five-four fag, shouldn’t have told him your favorite Pokémon is Gliscor, shouldn’t have called him one sexy motherfucker in his Rodrick Heffley costume, eyelined and gleaming, shouldn’t have offered to bench press all one-hundred-thirty pounds of him, shouldn’t have let him admit he’d kiss your red lips before the horror movie’s title screen. Shouldn’t have let him ask how you’d feel if he told you he was transgender. Shouldn’t have stretched the silence for five minutes, six. Shouldn’t have unmatched him without a word. Should have shed your cowardice like a winter coat. Should have spit out slurs, pierced his springy skin. Should have known that a stinging wound is easier to bear than someone’s soundless shame. /End ID]

booksnpictures

good morning to this tree by the riverside and this tree only

(müggelspree, germany)

Developmental Neurobiology, 1pm on Thursdays by Cain Birch

[Text ID:

Developmental Neurobiology, 1pm on Thursdays by Cain Birch. I want to hold you delicately in a twin bed after you make three straight slices through a white mouse’s abdomen, blood pooling in your blue gloves, after you pull each of her twelve babies from their gossamer sacs under the silver microscope, sharpening it all into disgusting detail. You cry while you watch her curdle with the carbon dioxide, even though she can’t feel its sweet burn in her tiny lungs, squeezed anyway by the small warm bodies, and I want to let your tears seep into my sweatshirt. I won’t make you wipe them away. I know our work is good and hard and that neither of us can stop. /End ID]

#cain birch #queer poetry #queer #queer love #love poem #love poetry #Crush #love poems #Neuroscience #science #neuroscience poetry #Tw gore #tw blood #science poetry #Scientist #yearning

lamignonette

Do Go Gentle by Cain Birch

[TEXT ID: Do Go Gentle by Cain Birch. Listen to me: I know you are torn open, raw, that your organs are spilling out into the sour air, that your heart is being squeezed, split open. Listen to me: I know you think you’ll never again hunger for lips, that you will never again brush your hand over a freckled cheek, that you will never again have your name whispered in the dark, a gentle flame dissipating the heaviness. Listen to me: I know that the misery is burning a hole in your heart like a cigarette, like a bullet hole, that the ash and gunpowder are choking your lungs, that you’re screaming and no one is hearing you. I know you’re cut open from heart to stomach, oozing red and black and guts, and you don’t trust anyone, not even a surgeon, to touch you without hurting you more. Resist the temptation to skip the antiseptic, the anesthetic, to sew yourself back up with iron thread, to replace the stinging parts with steel. You want to flex your claws and sharpen your teeth. But do not fall into the silver trap of hardening yourself. The metal will clamp around your leg and you will tear yourself in two trying to get away. Against all your best impulses, I want you to lie down, expose your belly to the world. I want you to practice being soft. Your heart cannot mend if it is only scar tissue, if you lock it behind a cage every time it snarls. I want you to let the world hurt you again and again and still get gentler. I want you to cradle the pain in your palms and let it beat and bleed and breathe, until someone comes close, stretches their palms out halfway, and offers their own quivering heart to you. /END ID]