cerulean

redefining art aka therapy's expensive and trauma dumping is fine if you tie a bow on it.

[ceruleans-world]

unpick my stomach from my body

as carefully as one would a seam

knit my oesophagus in pipes

so that I can't choke down food

sew my lips shut with precision

crafter, free me of temptation.

colour me into the image

of unadulterated perfection

braid my neurons into a mask

turn my body into my jail

weave a cell from my organs

create something from this nothing.

i am nothing, craftswoman

make me incapable of evil.

[ceruleans-world]

your brother needs the calories

your mother needs the peace of mind

you can't afford the energy

so sit down, shut up, and take it

the texts about how could you

the criticism of your choice of food

air out all their frustrations on you

with a pit in your stomach

and a pith in your mouth.

supplementing with vitamins

as the abyss of your stomach demands

to be sated. sit down. shut up. take it.

its what the situation requires.

youngest daughter, be the bigger man

again. fill their needs by ignoring your own.

sit down. shut up. take it.

you can't afford the energy expended

on fighting a woman who's feelings you guard

sit down. shut up. accept it.

it's what the situation demands.

[ceruleans-world]

soft hands and shared lipstick

gentle kisses, gentle fingers

hands through conditioned hair

sarcastic smiles and slender frames

wrinkled sheets and tangled limbs

and in the morning, golden light

peeking through the curtains

downstairs, a pot of coffee brewing

that I'll never drink, but

your hands around my wrist

thumb twisting your ring.

[ceruleans-world]

there is a kraken in my belly

who raises long limbs and

splashes the acid in my stomach

up and into my lungs. there is

a beast in my body who

thrashes at the cartilage bars

of my ribcage, desperate.

the tentacles choke me

wrapped around my airways as they are.

i used to breathe easier, i think

but the monster does not let me

i think this rage will mar my image

tarnish my soul, plague my mind

i think this rage will monster me

until my mama cannot tell her child

apart from the other creatures

cannot differentiate man from beast.

[ceruleans-world]

split mind

my mother was always verbose,

used vocabulary like a weapon

communicated with clarity and

efficacy. she was intelligent

and it took from her

and me a joy i will never find

she was the one that taught me

to be who i was regardless of

the motivations and opinions

of other children. she was the one

who articulated concepts foreign

to me and assumed accents of

characters in my books.

she was also the one who taught

me that illness takes more than

just your skin and vain-ness

it takes your words

and morphs them

and it creates a phrase

other than what you meant

[ceruleans-world]

Something is missing in these lines

stolen from your view. You know it's

something in your life, now it's out of tune.

Might you think - it isn't here, question to yourself;

where is this thing you know best?

Is this one poor joke, you think, is it ever coming home

Zooming between these words is nothing of something

is it quite eccentric, or something inexpensive?

Something you prize is gone, it is

never to return.

[ceruleans-world]

god didn't create adam and eve

to uphold idylls of morality

or fables of His word and sentence

god created adam and eve

so that we could all have mum and dad

god created adam and eve

so that while we were parted from Father

we could turn to dad and mum

and say forgive me, i have done wrong

and say protect me, i am weak

because they might have taken the apple

but they also had babies, and

Jesus will forgive their transgressions

but their children will not forget their love.

[ceruleans-world]

i understand the grief that sits in this place.

i recognise the cracked stone paving tiles

know the signs of strain, of too much

too many footsteps on too many routes

i know the high walls and high prices

and i know the quiet sadness that

mars the beautiful white concrete.

i wonder if the broken tiles were worn

by a thousand pinpricks, or the dagger

sheathed inside this place's soul. i

recognise the heaving heat of

too many bodies on too little land.

i wonder if they know that their mourning

feels a little like home.

[ceruleans-world]

i want to apologise

or somehow explain

not because i was wrong

but because I seek closure

I want a conflict so that I

can know, somehow, that

you know that I was

rational. so you know I

made the right choices.

so you know im happy.

once that would have

given you joy, maybe

the version of you I thought

I knew. but i want you to

see my joy and find it

oppresive without your presence.

[ceruleans-world]

I'm terrified for my best friend

To turn into someone I drifted from

Terrified for we could do this

To turn into we can't make it

The issue with teaching someone

Your seams precisely

Is that if they choose to dismantle you

They can do so with precision.

I'm terrified for wielded love

To change into a stitch tearer

Rip me apart until I am

No longer what you made me

[ceruleans-world]

update: i was right

[ceruleans-world]

how do you balance

the girl you knew and

the girl you loved with

the girl you walk behind

on the staircase? an

unspoken ocean of words

between you because you

had different friends, and she

has your old friends, and you

stopped loving them a long

time ago, and stopped liking them

far more painfully recently.

so you walk behind her

and you hope she turns

and you hope she doesn't

because you're scared you won't

recognise her mind the same way

you recognise her face.

[ceruleans-world]

she is a train station

something has barrelled

straight through her, left

her stomach empty and

her slow breathing as

she waits for the next one

and it's like London buses

nothing for far too long

and then two in one go.

but the thing about trains

is they have to leave

their passengers need them

to leave. the station isnt

taken into account -

normally it doesn't feel

absence quite as acutely

as she does.

[ceruleans-world]

there is an angel on my shoulder

who says people will love me more

if i lost my appetite, and if i

stopped being so abrasive

and if i went upstairs to cry

and if i kept my nose out of it

there is a devil on my shoulder

who says that those people

weren't much worth knowing

and who says that i was made who i am

by Them, the dreaded Them,

that They treated me wrong

and why shouldn't I be abrasive?

there is an angel on my shoulder

though now, come to think of it

the angel introduced them both

and if she'd get off my shoulder

I'd be able to think for once

that maybe she's not so good

[ceruleans-world]

it is not my life

just other gay people.

you arent the issue honey

youre pretty and not in our face

about it. it is not my life

just other women

the type that throw away lives

like a one day mistake

not you, sweetie

but 80% of women are sa'ed.

not all of them can get pregnant

they're too young

and we are so pro life except

when the issue is to be trans

or kill yourself, you cannot be trans.

[ceruleans-world]

to the girls who aren't acquired tastes

that soar above the clouds at first

placed high above their pedestals

who cannot help but disappoint

whose wax wings begin to drip

and some cruel god claws them off

who Fall, from grace, from greatness

to the girls who you forgot to love

once they gathered dust, became old

became normal when you stopped

idolising them, laughing at them

to the girls who you fell out of love with

[ceruleans-world]

is love the feeling of longing

that has carved itself into my chest

made a home for itself beneath my skin

and asked that i allow it there?

is love the pain of hoping

that one day youll be next to me

and i can cling and cling on

and never let go

and never be seperate again?

[ceruleans-world]

hey, baby, youll say

oh, i didnt mean it like that

not like a cloying romantic sense

except i wanted you to mean it, wanted

you to look me in the eyes and say three words.