Stuck Taking Bad Self Portraits @chickenscratch4thesoul - Tumblr Blog

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Hello! This is just going to be my silly little writing blog to just collect all of my writings. TW// for discussions of addiction and depression. If you'd like to see poems formatted a little bit better I also have a substack! https://artemisialee.substack.com/

Rocket ships weren't exciting

They promised us rockets.

Massive shuttles,

carrying all of mankind.

They promised us Mars.

Bases nestled

between the dusty

red mountains

sat underneath

a flaming sky.

When I was a child

space was the final frontier.

A promise of a new

enterprise. Fueled

by curiosity and hope.

But rockets were never

for the refugees.

Never built from

Kindness. Only

a means for the

rich to point and laugh.

Now as floods and

flames eat away

at the only planet

humanity will ever

call home. I

resign myself

to my final

resting place.

Planet Earth.

#poetry #writing #Just felt very strongly about space

An ideology donor

I pray to be devoured from the inside out.

Teeth gnawing on my flesh and bone.

Nails clawing escape from my ribcage

While my blood spills under the church doors

and into sacramental cups.

I want my body to be destroyed.

To be taken apart methodically

And catalogued thoroughly.

Locked away in a university basement.

Abandoned aside from one macabre soul

Fascinated by the concept of death.

But I will no longer be a person.

Nothing but a memento mori.

Proof for an ethical code.

A weight for a moral argument.

My bones will be shelved.

My blood drank at the communion

And my teeth turned into

Jewelry she really wishes

You’d ask about.

My separate pieces

Fulfilling a role in others lives

Almost like an

ideological organ donation.

Now please.

Ask the poor girl about

My canines she wears.

And ask the boy

How seeing my eyes

In dusty bottles

Made him believe in God.

And ask them

How the taste of my flesh

Made them vegetarian.

#poetry #slight gore? im not quite sure how to tag it

A conversation with a cowboy

Oh, cowboy what ails you!

Rest your weary head upon my shoulder.

Lower your gun!

Don’t point it at such an old friend!

Surely the heat has not affected your mind,

Or does it only recall the ghosts of yesteryear.

How long have you ridden,

On that horse you called death?

The war has long since ended.

The towns have long since died,

And the gold has all but run out.

So, Caballero why do you still ride?

Do you enjoy the dust in your lungs?

The lonely campfires

Or the mountain lions.

Even now your chariot is a bag of bones.

It’s soul already having passed on.

Why don’t you take off your hat.

Maybe you ride to inspire legend!

Some mythical rider dressed in black.

But the cowboy is dead my friend!

Passed softly in the night,

While you played pretend.

Why haven’t you heard soldier?

There are better guns,

There are televisions and office jobs!

The revolutions are over.

Although no one quite agrees if they won or lost.

They say concessions were made.

Whatever that means.

Why let me pour you a drink friend!

Hand me your canteen.

Cowboy you’ve rode so long.

I wonder if you ever noticed your circular route.

Did you visit the sites?

Did you see the bison?

Did you see the west

Before they caged it with their barbed wire?

Of course not!

After all you never rode far

On your sad little quest.

Y’know that’s what they said about you.

Doomed from the start.

Because that’s what becomes of one

Who so desperately wishes to be a martyr.

Well cowboy rest your weary bones

In a bed of unfulfilled potential.

On the graves that were never dug.

Upon the blossoms that never bloomed.

I’m sorry friend.

Fate paid you no mind.

But by damn did you try

To catch its eye.

#artemisia poetry hour #poetry #Decided to work an a story based on this so I decided to post it

The fall

To fall from grace

For the love of another

Is the most complete

Form of love

To watch your wings turn to dust

To watch your tears fall upward

To feel the impact of the earth

To forego godliness

A fate completely sealed

All for the embrace of a finite lifeform

To sit in a too small apartment

To breathe in the polluted air

Knowing that one day

Your love will pass

And yet you will not

You will crawl the earth like a ghost

No purpose

No escape

Only you

and your lover’s grave

Is this a love worthwhile

To lose yourself so completely in another

That you would condemn

Yourself to damnation

To lay in the morning light

With someone you hold dear

The fall of an angel

Is the most romantic thing we imagine

But it is the murder of the ego

For the sake of another

Perhaps the pain

In another’s solitude

Is what we desire

To have an effect so strong

A love so cataclysmically deep

That an angel

Would damn themselves

For our love

#artemisia poetry hour #poetry #guess what i watched right before writing this one

Racing

My lover cries tears in the morning

She thinks I do not hear them

> >

My lover falls apart in the next room

Only to emerge with a smile on her face

Assuring me today will be good

No matter how much love I give

No matter how tight I hold her

My lover’s tears are my wake up alarm

We went to watch a sunset

And even with the vista

All I could see was the glint of her tears

She scoffed when I held her hand

But her smile eased my heart

> >

My lover and I have not spoken of it

And I fear it’s too late

My lover sprints towards death

And there is nothing to do but watch

> >

She’ll never know how tightly I hold her at night

Or how I hide candies in her pocket

To break that eternal grief

Even if for a split second

> >

My lover races toward death

And all I can do is watch

And I can’t bear it any longer

#artemisia poetry hour #poetry

My coffin pt 1

Today I will craft my coffin

Tomorrow the headstone

And the month after

The epitaph

Because if I cannot control who I am in life

Then I will decide it in death

#artemisia poetry hour #this is about being misgendered in life and still having the power to be remembered how you want in death

Vices

I think I’ll take up smoking

Just one a day

Maybe three a week >

Because nothing is rotting my body away

and it haunts me >

To be in good health

Is to have longevity

That I don’t desire

Surely one day some love will come to me

and regret

the ways I sabotaged my health

But surely they can forgive

Given the life I’ve lived

So dear lover

I’m sorry for the cough

But to brave this life with no crutch

Is worse than an early grave

I hope you’ll understand

and love what remains

#artemisia poetry hour #poetry

A blaze of glory

I want to go out in a blaze of glory

To die in a way so bright and obscene

That not a single being

could stand to look away

Like spectators to a shuttle explosion

Their selfless hands raised towards the sky

With aid that is miles too late

I want the particles of myself

To fall to the earth like ash

While the children below marvel

At the strange black snow

I want to put Icarus to shame

In both folly and flame

Because if I die peacefully

Then no one will know

how volatile I was in my final hour

But to die in a blaze of glory

Is to sear yourself into the sky

To forever damage its sunset

By finally taking up the space

You were promised at birth

I hope to become a cautionary tale

Told with such frequency

That I become another myth of the stars

After all,

What despondent creature

Would want so badly

To destroy the sky

For their second of recognition.

#artemisia poetry hour #poetry

Love in the mundane

Keep our love in your pocket

Like a memento you treasure

Its existence enough to bring you peace and joy

That’s mere presence gives you fortune

Keep my portrait in your golden locket

One you never even need to open

Because you’ve never forgotten the color of my eyes

Keep my heart in your favorite book

One you know word for word

Despite the dust settling on its spine

I hope you treasure me

The way you do the mundane

That I fall into your life so completely

As a song you place on every playlist

As a snack brand you’ve never swayed from

As the back road you always take home

Love me in the mundane

And I will do my best to do the same.

#poetry #looping song poetry #long gone by mary epworth

A camera

I wish there was some object

I loved like a piece of my soul resided inside

I wish I had a camera

So beautiful and so treasured

That I viewed it as an extension of myself

So that I could see it

So that I could feel it

And say this piece of me is valuable

That this piece of me is a treasure

That will function after I’m gone

#artemisia poetry hour

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