this blog used to be a name holder

[dtriestowrite]

I rip out my womb

I rip out my heart

I crush them up

And with the blood I make "art"

My words are not what makes me

Nor the pictures that I draw

What makes me's what my father sees

The son I wish he had, as I sit and clench my jaw

For a man who's first time it is on earth

I think I've made my forefathers quite proud

I think I can rest quite peacefully, when they lay me into the ground

I'm sure I'll be an even better man, around my second or third birth

But for now Im only decent, as it is still my first

[sullenpoetry-pn]

Mirror image:

What do you see in him I wonder; what do you see in him I ask myself.

A mirror image yet a blurry picture. You're making something sweet; but add something rotten into the mixture.

You see yourself in him but he is a two-way mirror. You stare into his eyes but see a deformed figure.

You share nothing yet you treat him as a son, you share nothing yet you treat him as the messiah.

[ulysses-but-somehow-more-transer]

spring rolled in like a storm in summer sudden and with warning

i can see it not in but on the air at night

go and smell the birdsong through a window at a time when it is still too cold to open

see the buds on the bushes as an omen

theres a syncopated rythm to change, touch it

know an empty beach means catastrophy

know an empty tree means blooming

[dtriestowrite]

"There is something to be said about the way in which a heart burns. Quickly and leaves no ash behind, just the stinging breeze of salty tears. Something to be said about loving someone so deeply and truthfully. About the guilt which eats you alive. The moment of realization, holy moment of knowing, that the things they've done to themself will dissolve you in your guilt. "

[dtriestowrite]

"There is something to be said about the way in which a heart burns. Quickly and leaves no ash behind, just the stinging breeze of salty tears. Something to be said about loving someone so deeply and truthfully. About the guilt which eats you alive. The moment of realization, holy moment of knowing, that the things they've done to themself will dissolve you in your guilt. "

[dtriestowrite]

I hope to come home to a warm meal

And warmer greetings

And yet I know

I'll step foot into the ashen home

I'll walk amongst the cold walls

Eat my fill in freezing smiles

[dtriestowrite]

The sky in the mountains is beautiful tonight,

And oh how beautifully do the city streets glow.

And is that not the beauty of it,

is that not what makes us grow?

That everything is beautiful,

in its own gods given right.

[dtriestowrite]

Tonight I've discovered

Tears in your eyes

Make every star look like a shooting one

And they have the same amount of chance of making your wishes come true

[dtriestowrite]

We hold onto everyone and everything we meet

In little ways and in molecules and atoms

In laughter and smiles and tears and everything else

In little habits unconsciously copied

In band tshirts

And favorite foods

In colors we like and memories we cherish

Everyone we meet adds a brick onto the tower that is us

Everyone we meet adds a piece to the jigsaw puzzle that is our identity

You carry everyone you meet in you

For better or for worse

[dtriestowrite]

A stranger in my parents home

A random no one in my body

I don't know how long it's been

Since I looked in the mirror and saw somebody

Open window and closed doors

The porch light's on and no one's home

How long is time when you don't need or want it

And longer yet when you're all out of it

Who I am is not who I want to be

Who I want to be is not what you expect of me

I don't like change I dont like static

I think I'll get my stuff and move into my own attic

The living room is crowded with stress and with fear

My bedroom boarded up, I've never been near

Inside of me, my home

I hate it just like the one my parents own

[dtriestowrite]

My hands are twitching

I need to create something

My mouth is dry

I need to create something

My eyes are restless

I need to create something

My leg is bouncing

I need to create something

My mind is dried out

I need to create something

My ribs hurt

I need to create something

My hair is in my eyes

I need to create something

I itch all over

I need to create something

My skin feels too tight yet too loose

I need to create something

I put down my phone

I go to sleep

I created nothing

I wake up

My hands are twitching

I need to create something

[dtriestowrite]

Line to a fic I never wrote

"Karma really works in mysterious ways doesn't it?

Out of all its shapes and forms, bodies and faces it appears to me in your figure. A soft beauty that makes me forget and cut myself on its jagged, sharp edges.

I suppose it was well overdue, I've been playing the Theseus for so long, with my black sails, abandoning my Ariadnes, I was due to take their place sooner or later.

Beautiful, helpful, head over heels in love, yet abandoned by my Theseus all the same."

[dtriestowrite]

I want to be eaten alive

My heart, to stop and freeze

I feel myself kicking into overdrive

To get some love, monsters sail the seven seas

I want to be taken by the night

To shed blood for a noble cause

I've only ever known life as a fight

I'm a rotten flower, but you adore the vase

A child dreams to be a hero

An adolescent dreams of saving

The number of dreams the adult has is zero

And the old man dreams of having walked a path worth paving

And love makes the sweetest rose smell rotten

Or that is what I'm told at least

But not loving is a lesson I've not forgotten

Such a sacred thing was not meant for a beast

And my tears don't fall, they're burdens I can't shed

My smiles are faint, signs of humanity I am to bury

The monster inside me devours me, unable to be fed

I advise you to run away from it, but I beg of you to hurry

Because it makes me feel all sorts of things

And beasts can't feel, for that's forbidden

Yet my heart, wilted, sings

It uncovers that which is hidden

That I want you to eat me alive

My heart, to stop and freeze

That I've long ago kicked into overdrive

That to get some love, I'll sail the seven seas

[dtriestowrite]

I get up and gaze upon the mirror

The picture staring back at me

A golden clock

It ticks sporadically

Never quite right

Never quite orderly or well timed

I gaze some more

And like the clock I lose my track of time

I go back to bed

Chest heavy and cemented.

I get up and gaze upon the mirror

The clock is gone

I see an emerald river

Its course runs backwards

And it's fish swim on the surface, instead of in its depths

I gaze some more

And like the river my course runs backwards

I go back to bed

My eyelids glued open, my mind welded shut.

I get up and gaze upon the mirror

The river has run dry

I see a sword breaking through armor

The sword come out and armor mends, the violence begins yet again

I gaze some more

And like the sword that breaks the shield again and again hopelessly

I go back to bed

Chest heavy and cemented.

I don't want to get up again.

I don't want to gaze upon the mirror and be faced with where I am.

Why am I the broken clock?

The backwards river?

The hopeless loop?

I want to burn my bed

Rip the cement through.

Wake up my mind and open up my eyes.

I get up and gaze upon the mirror.

[dtriestowrite]

They say that words,

Come out like water from the tap,

Like wine from a dark green bottle,

But either my pipes have burst,

And my bottle's got a cork in it,

Or maybe there's a water shortage,

Maybe someone's drank the wine

And maybe it was me,

Who got too high on all the praise

Maybe it way god

For letting me drown in all my hubris

So I'll sit in the sun to refill my bottle

I'll drink from the river and sit in the marshes

And I'll fill my bottle up with hedonism.

Let me put the cork back on, and let the sun fix all my pipes

I still will sit, empty and hollow,

The words shall not pour in,

Because words are holy

And words are pure

And words are not tools

The words are art

And I am not an artist

I am the man that clutches his heart

I am the angel that dresses in red and black

I am not the door but the torn welcome mat in front of it

I am the heart and all its clogged arteries

The unrelenting stream of words is all and is holy,

A stream of blood and blessings and tears

And I am a sinner, I forsake my saints

I am an animal, unworthy and cursed, to take and to take and to take

And to give nothing away

And to say no words

[dtriestowrite]

And I lay curled up at your feet

Begging for a measly piece of meat

As if I haven't been fed in weeks

And I have never been so warm

And I have never been so home

Like in your arms

I follow after you to the kitchen

I look at you love stricken

I claw at the door when you leave

I throw myself to my knees

When you come back to me

And I howl in your absence

Cry and chase the moon

Tuck my tail between my legs

Do anything for you

By your side's where I belong

So treat me like a goddamn dog

[dtriestowrite]

I'm tired again.

It gets dark at 5 pm and the sun rises at 7 am and I am tired .

Even the last roses in my garden have wilted away with the last warm rays of the sun. The raindrops splatter against the pavement helplessly, the street light down the street that keeps flickering is even dimmer and I'm tired again.

My walks to the store have gotten longer and my playlists have gotten slower, quieter. The cranberry tea tastes better than it did last month, and the blanket feels lighter on my body at night. The lead in my mechanical pen seems to be spent far quicker and I'm tired again.

The books on my shelf call to me louder, the sunsets are redder than they were in July, making coffee seems easier than it was yesterday and the couch is more comfortable. My bag is heavier on my shoulders and my textbooks feel thicker, the lections more complicated and I've gotten tired again.

My phone sits more comfortably in my hand, my socks are thicker and I don't seem to mind the overcast sky nearly as much. The tap water tastes worse and is ice cold, my breath is shakier and foggy and I think I'm tired again.

The silence is heavier and my joints are stiffer, my lips are chapped. Words come harder and my boots are heavy on my feet and I'm tired.

Getting up from bed feels like more of a chore and all the food just tastes bland. I've been wearing the same hoodie for nearly a week and my eyes hurt from staring at my screen and I'm tired again.

My eyes close faster, my hair is frizzier and I hate it more than I did in October, my fingers are numb and my nose is red, my yard is covered in frost and so are my windows and..... Fuck.

I'm tired again.