Scribbles

               I'm never sure what causes turbulence to take up residence in the hollow of my stomach but italic tears spilling from my ink stained eyes is often all that will alleviate it.    

[exitingtherabbithole]

My neurons expand in the dark

Until the encase me

Intertwine in my fingers

And weave around my neck

[exitingtherabbithole]

I’m doing something right

I don’t feel sick when I look at you with her anymore.

[exitingtherabbithole]

I see you in the evening After you’ve been drinking all day And you caress my cheek while walking past me perched on the couch My god, I want to lean into your hand Just to let it hold me But there are people in the room And not yet enough empty bottles for our interactions to go unnoticed So I pull away and ignore your gaze   I see you later that night And it’s a week since you told me you would rather be friends Than only permitted to know my body But you cup my hands as you look into my eyes Like my body is the only thing you’ve ever known And I sip my wine To blunt your piercing gaze   Later still we’re alone in your room While you take sledge hammers to every barricade I ever built In the form of questions   And it’s dark so you can’t see the tears pouring down my face As I whisper about how fucked up I really am.

[exitingtherabbithole]

When sex is synonymous with self-worth

And when your lips touched my skin

They were not your lips

But those of every man before you

Dressing me in the only love I’ve ever know how to accept

The tangible kind

The send shivers down your spine

Scratches on your back kind of love

And when your lips touched my skin

They were not your lips

But every mouth I had temporarily made a home

For my shadows to live inside

Every tongue I believe could transcribe my value

In a symbol greater than zero

Every head I believed I could crawl inside

Cause grey matter has always made more sense to me than the actions it illicits

And when your lips

They touch my skin

They are no one’s lips

They are my self-worth

Package in foreign flesh

I’ve been trying to split since the age of 14

Your lips

They touch my skin

And I’m not bathing in your body

I’ve never bathed in any body

I’m saturating myself with the only value I know

Cause my esteem travels through osmosis while our beings intertwine

And I’ve never understood why it was birthed inside every male body

Instead of just my own

But please

When I’ve licked you lips dry

And finished trying to morph your flesh with mine

Know that it is not your lips that have touched my skin

Just like the mouths I have ripped from faces

And stuffed into pockets

Have no owners

These are not your lips

They were never your lips

They have always been mine

[lora-mathis]

I don’t know how else to say this besides: No. No, stop. No, you don’t. No, that’s not what it means. No. No, I am not a rummage sale with “free” strung over it. No, letting you into a room of the house doesn’t give you permission to burn the whole thing down. No, love doesn’t mean you get it all. Yes, I can be selective in the parts of me you get to see. Yes, I still have choices. Yes, this is still my body. This is still my body. This is still my body. This is still my own. No. This doesn’t mean that I need to learn how to love fuller.

What I Should Have Said To The Partner Who Told Me Love Was Ownership, Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

[exitingtherabbithole]

I’m an emotional wasteland

Your lips have been tracing key holes

All over my flesh

But the masses of mouths

That have already attempted

To break these walls with their tender tongues

Crawl into smirks

At your ignorant ambitions

They know how my mouth is full of riddles

And leaks yeses when trying to scream No

Just caress me

Knead me

Don’t look inside

Beneath my flesh, there’s something insidious

That pulses

And shudders

I can feel it in my veins

My chest

Just stop

I cannot weave these sentiments

Into any words you could pluck out the air

For fear of secrets I don’t even know

Riding on them like waves

Into your greedy ears

In search of a more open-plan home

Just tell me I’m “Hot”

And I’ll try my best to play by the rules

Accept all compliments graciously

And who gives a fuck about my character

I mean being pretty is more important right?

[exitingtherabbithole]

In this empty room... I can feel my hollowness collapsing in on itself

[exitingtherabbithole]

Losing myself in endless montages of bedsheets And foreign pheromones Lit by disregarded movie scenes And filthy laptop screens Trying to translate transcriptions buried beneath your tongue I peel mementos from your back Trace every boy’s vertebrate like I retrace my steps And scratch my name into their arms Confirmation of my existence A declaration of my presence I don’t ask to be remembered Just to be seen I bend into shapes that don’t reek of depression Writhe into all the words I’m too afraid to write I am a wishbone begging to be broken An unlocked room Door creaking in the breeze Take me And break me I am a hurricane And the city being destroyed A natural disaster of unnatural proportions Both the detective and the crime scene The culprit and the victim Performing open heart surgery in musty bedrooms Donating all the organs I can’t live without Fugitive curls abandoned in bedsheets The only affirmation That I am even real

[exitingtherabbithole]

First stanza of a new piece

I am the perpetual observer in a world of fluidity The constant in search of a mutual stability Attempting to translate the meaning of life From smoke wisps cupped in prison palms Satiated self-strangulation I birth florid fabrications Convoluted incantations Mispronunciations And mistranslations Of all the ways you try to say “I Love you”

[exitingtherabbithole]

[exitingtherabbithole]

[exitingtherabbithole]

It never felt better to feel nothing at all

[exitingtherabbithole]

I have been flossing with your name for over a year Trying to smooth its edges on my teeth I hoped it could visit my mouth and leave no wounds Come as it pleased without scraping my tongue raw Three hundred and sixty five days to file down that single syllable Now you’re lighter than air and far less necessary It feels so fucking good to spit your name to the wind And feel nothing

[exitingtherabbithole]

You ripped a hole in my chest I wanted to bury inside Crawl into until I was inverted With my muscles and veins adorning my exterior Replacing flesh and all your wrong inferences Used to define my dehumanised state I have been an exoskeleton clad enigma You lose sight of my softness in my furrowed brow Never witness moisture licking my face So believe my body to be a desert “The scars on your skin have made you stronger” you said But my god, how can you not understand? Some nights these cuts they still weep Prise their eyes open blooming moonflowers all over my thighs These volcanoes that live in my flesh know not of extinction Their lava will forever hiss in my core And just because basalt rock clings to my being Does not mean I am any less vulnerable than you are

[exitingtherabbithole]

Sit down for dinner And pick at myself instead of the food Twist myself into a seam that only knows how to run Feel more comfortable nestled into grey matter Than that grey cardigan you gave me last June None of your sugar coated existences Can ever withstand my seasons Raindrops magnify the contradictions Like cockroaches crawling from your mouth How many of their legs have you picked from your teeth? I sometimes wonder about the stories You must articulate for your own justification The coinciding of our realities I struggle to comprehend Opposing interpretations of identical events I’m witnessing a carcass world Segregated behind frosted glass While you’re in the crowd at Cirque Du Soleil I’m crossing synapses in search of bones ‘Alone’ the only word that is at home in my mouth And my god, how comfortable he has made himself Sharing dreams of splitting my atoms So I can melt into every dimension That is more transient than this isolated existence I wasn’t meant to be confined in fragile walls This flesh is a prison I cannot absorb all the knowledge I crave I hunger to fulfil omnipresent lucidity And liberating nonexistence Simultaneously

[exitingtherabbithole]

Sit down for dinner and pick at myself instead of the food

[solelyxtb]

fuck the people that don't appreciate you.

[exitingtherabbithole]

I tried that... Didn't really work

[exitingtherabbithole]

This is only half finished

Stop stipulating your faults Listing you inadequacies in the forefront of your mind Their abundance is present on your face Pores pouring narcissism Of the very worst kind Your freckles were birthed from your core to highlight your individuality They did not voyage through your being to be turned into bullet points Detailing every mistake you’ve made Watching the hourglass with reductionist eyes Cajoles your perspective into abstract hemispheres Slipping into dimensions where your knowledge Of this transient existence is not permitted You crumple in on yourself Pack your bags one afternoon To crawl up your own nose Make a home above your brainstem So you can monitor your limbic system Your mother enwove her proactive ideologies Into your fingertips so they can never stagnate Tranquillity always left your mouth feeling dirty Made you want to brush your teeth So you keep writing lists with these fidgeting fingers Anything not to feel