The Art Of Choking

CALEB& | 8TEEN | THEY/HE+NEOS | POETRY AND WEB WEAVING

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THERES ACID ON THE FLOOR — TRY NOT TO BURN

The art of chasing, remembering, and wishing you knew better. Welcome to my playground.

My Webweaves are long and will be in multiple parts and tagged accordingly.

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I never wanted to die. I just wanted to be mourned.

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The Comet

I need you to know it hurt me before it hurt you

Like flesh ripping, splitting from my chest

A flame

A virgin spark

Piercing through the night, I weeped

You grew a molar in my heart

I ripped it out with his tweezers

I bled for hours, wishing it was you

Wishing you had ripped it out instead

I shooed away the comet

Before I could make a wish

A shooting star with no purpose

But a temporary happiness, rippling through my bones

I wept for you

I wept for you

You set me on fire

I burned the cities inside my head

The teeth around my heart made space for you,

Before they could bite down

I pulled you out

My virgin flame died out,

Leaving ash

What’s left of you

The blood between those teeth

This molar in my hand

The comet phasing backwards

I’ve left a mark on my own heart

I’ve left a mark on my own heart

I miss you already and you were barely there

You were barely there

You never meant to stay,

Regardless I ache

So pointless, I retch wings

Feathers for my freedom

Feathers for my grace

A light once brighten my two weeks

I am dark again

My lungs are blackened once more

The comet retreats

I wonder if I was wrong

I retch wings

My feet are molded to the ground

I retch wings.

It hurt me before it hurt you.

I know I am right.

But I feel so wrong drawing away your light.

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