Tell me why you're running away

Original work unless stated :) A dreamer with unhealthy emotional attachments to fictional characters and her computer.

[starvingsilence]

hey I'm probably deleting soon

so follow me on my main blog if you want to see my poetry/prose pieces.

Here's a straight link to new stuff/work I posted on there!

[starvingsilence]

Summer time sadness (I don't believe.)

I think God only exists to those who believe in him. And the rest of us are damned to wander the earth, searching for the meaning of life until we wither away into coffins or scatter as dust from a pyre, blowing away in winds that will never stop for anybody.

Unrequited love and sunsets I will never see. The world is full of people diagnosed with routine, breathing in air weighed down by dust and dying dreams. Days rush past and I'm running and running away from a reality that is crashing down around me. I'm dropping dreams along the way hoping one of them will explode and scatter me across the universe. 

Summer time is a kind of limbo. A pause. A state of purgatory where we are left to dwell on our sins and make up new ones. I haven't turned on the radio in three months, and I haven't looked out of the window in twelve. 

This city is stale and dusty, filled with people choking on crushed dreams, grinding hopes into concrete pavement, waiting for the fall winds to sweep them away.

I lied, there is no fall here. There is summer and then winter. The summer brings days of sweat and flip flops and people attempting to put themselves together, but giving up and letting the world spin while they stand still, watching. 

Days blur together into a confusing haze (quicker than I can keep up with) under my ignorant glazed stare and I dread moving forward, so I keep still hoping the hands of the clock will fall off and I can float in limbo forever.

Winter is harsh and yet gentle. Everything gets numb but we feel with better understanding of ourselves, and the people around us.  Winter is beautiful because it is so easy to melt into the shadows of the streets and seep into the crevices of sidewalks when it's early and I can't feel my fingertips.

The air is silent and heavy with thoughts and regrets; decisions they made in the summer. 

But in a secret place they know it's the summer time memories that keep them warm through the piercing winter. 

[starvingsilence]

Vodka for the nights you can't take it  For the night you realized you had no future and everything is shaky and not quite still for a while  

[starvingsilence]

(Close to dark) The rebellion

I want that moment when it is dim outside so close to blackness but the lights aren't all the way out and the stars are beginning to fade in the darkest grey the sky can be before a shadow envelops it  the moment when intoxicated teens stumble into a cemetery  with half empty bottles of wine for those few desperately trying to be grown up but mostly beer and cheap vodka that burns down their throats  in a race of deterioration

And late twilight gales blow hair into flushed faces rosy cheeks and shiny eyes with smiles cloaked by the encroaching night they sit around with cigarettes dangling from their fingers and the scent of tobacco seeping into their skin as wisps of smoke drift into their hair and stain their clothes with the smell of rebellion and decay as ash collects on crumbling headstones smearing future regret onto eternally cold concrete

Warm bodies press together clumsily falling over into the dew laden grass the smell of hormones penetrating in haste  the cool and mysterious aura that lingers in a grave yard

Their skin tastes of ash to each other but maybe that's because they could never taste anything else after the  3rd pack (now lying empty near Mr. Watson - beloved colleague and friend.) and smoky collarbones and ashen fingertips is all they have for tonight.

[starvingsilence]

The supernova.

She breathes the stars in each a glimmering reminder of her perpetual insignificance She inhales glowing orbs of dust and helium and exhales constellations universes skirting the tip of her tongue

Her breaths are long and unhurried Her gait is crooked and unsteady there are heavenly bodies festering in the spaces between her ribs and dust from dead stars collecting in her throat seeping into her lungs withering the walls of her bronchi

So she coughs up galaxies  floating out from the space in between her chipped teeth cracking with the weight of the worlds inside her

Someday she will fall apart and a supernova will erupt from within her Tearing apart the walls of her decaying lungs Her sparkling skin will crumble to ash and unleash the universe within her

One day, she will scatter across the sky into a million specks of light burning brighter than  her mortal iris' ever did.

[starvingsilence]

Inhabited

There's a lizard crawling up my spine Leaving two footprints on each vertebra They look like smudges of ink Like the ones on letters I sent to you -One for each day I sleep alone

And cockroaches tickling my ribs Like needles pricking my skin Like the needle we used to share To burn ecstasy through our blood And your fingernails against my translucent skin -They have to crawl over the scars you left behind

There are flies humming around my ear passage Their song ricocheting off my ear canal Like the notes that used to bounce off the strings of your Gibson As your fingertips drew them out, so sweet I could Taste the chords as you plucked them -Blood smells as metallic as guitar strings taste I should know, I kissed your sliced hand and it tasted just like rust.

And a garden snake coiled on my hips It covers the badly scrawled script etched Into the taut skin that's struggling To shroud protruding, sharp bones Desperately trying to rip through -"Forever and always"

The bullshit you shoved down my throat  Until I choked and turned grey  So grey they declared me a corpse And corpses can't move

So I'm paralyzed while they drop Wilted flowers at my headstone While my pets begin to push through My blue lips And scurry down my throat I only hope they don't drown In all the lies I swallowed For you

For you, darling,

For you.

[starvingsilence]

This year, I want to be your mistake.

Last year you were just one of my mistakes A line I never wished to read again and like the tide so often does  you kept coming back to me but I pushed you away

Perhaps waves are not apt to describe you because the waves of the ocean always go back to the shore but you stopped trying  and I allowed you to drift away

I cannot compare you to the waves of the ocean because your feelings did not lie upon depth and complexity it was a rather shallow love but then again, I would not know.

This year I fell in love with the way you use the words hanging on your fingertips and the things you say to me bury themselves in my bones digging burrows deep in the grey tissue hanging inside my skull and then causing quite a ruckus  from those cavities

This year I pay special notice to the way you talk to me and I find myself analyzing  every possible emotion that lingers between your loose words

This year I fell captive to your rare charm and found myself struggling to read behind lines that I created  because I so desperately  wished they existed

This year I relish every moment you spend on me and wait for every reply you send anxiously and most pathetically I must confess

This year I find myself awaiting the time in the day when I can speak to you or speak about you simply because there's so much I can say

Your love, (if I can even spare the use of such a luxurious term) As I saw it, was like a puddle shallow and not very clean murky and questionable at best but that's just how I saw it

My love, (And with great resignation I deem it) Is not easily acquired (at the level you have) and is tremendously confusing It comes in confusing waves and bouts that render me questioning myself too many times over

But no matter how many times I attempt to brush it away my fingers slip right past because my love, is not tangible

It is like air, or rather, gusts of wind  that leave me unsteady and just like the winds, I have no control over it anymore, and I'm struggling to grasp at something intangible, hoping to contain it,

Only it isn't working.

You, Let me crawl into your mind and see what lies beneath, Let me invade your thoughts as you have captured mine, and render you helpless to you feelings,

But for now I'm just stuck here wondering, if there even lies a fading shadow, a tiny glowing ember, a faint wisp of the remainder of your questionable, unexplained love that never got a chance to be.

[starvingsilence]

Sepia.

It comes rushing back to me in flickering fragments distorted  like an unfocused lens unstable

sometimes all I see is static for that instant and my mind is bombarded with all the memories I had to rebuild from scratch because I had blocked the ones that made me the happiest I had ever been just to forget what it felt like so I'd have nothing to compare my present to

and spend minutes upon hours lamenting over every single knot I untangled from your raven tresses under the ruthless californian heat where we had nothing but swallows to keep us company and nothing to do but trace the sinewy veins of conifers that buried their gnarled roots deep into the cherry soil that stained our scarred skin

Stable. The very thing we could not obtain, stability grew in abundance in our secret little spot

We tried We tried so hard, I watched as you pressed your fingertips  to the dirt threads darted out of them struggling so hard to  resemble the wild flower veins that resided deep in the earth but they were never quite as secure and would always rip  the moment you tried too hard to let them grow and entangle themselves among those that already lurked in the depths

It was enticing to watch the hope spark in your iris' and growing flames dancing in the  circumference of  your cerulean pupils flickering before being completely  extinguished as the fibers tore into limp threads in your filthy palms. 

It's like those slides you used to show me on your grand father's projector the images come to me in faded whispers glaring at me right in the face then turning into wisps of secondhand smoke as soon as I tried to grab them

the smoke lingers like the narcotic clouds that used to hover among us when you flicked ash into the crook of my neck to watch it tumble into my blouse decaying my then-ivory skin and leaving your mark of deterioration as you loved to,

Stars glare at me every night, unforgiving, always haunting my evenings rendering me terrified of twilight because there are jagged pieces of thoughts and sights, and sounds, and smells that slowly slice through my resolve and tear through the cobwebs in the corners  of my mind, I forgot existed and the middle of the night finds me trembling, because I remember every last detail from the sickening crunch of metal and bone piercing straight through my cerebellum  to the deafening screech of burning rubber on pavement littered with barbed shards of bloody glass

Sometimes  I can still smell the bleach I used  to cover up the stench of gasoline I had adorned myself with I can feel my lungs withering shriveling up and scarlet veins being carved into  my eyeballs as I watched on that day

Sometimes  I still see blurred moments  burned into the back of my mind; the cadaverous tone to your still figure, the rubber feel of your blanched palms against mine

The foreign look in your eyes, in the casket, how I wondered,  if that was even you and tried so hard to liken the ashen corpse  to the stories stitched into the seams of my brain but I realized too late and I was staring  into the eyes of a 

stranger

[starvingsilence]

Props.

what fragile, depressed souls we are lurking in the shadows  peeping out from the crevices of illusions we are afraid to diminish all for the non-existent security we believe holds us together In the end everything melds into props behind a falling red curtain irrelevant after the last echo of footsteps bounces off the learned walls and what are we left with?

the dust settling in to the crevices of the hardwood planks leather boots have long trodden on and gathered splinters, while embedding earth from distances we only dare to dream of  when our heads have long drifted away from our futile existence

Alas! Condemned is the dreamer for they shall sail aboard wrecked vessels teeming with the undying spirit of adventure overflowing from every young muscled sailor's  breath mingled with the scent of tobacco and gin  and dreams too big to be extinguished quietly 

[skysaredoorwayshome-deactivated]

She had white skin, paper mached by days spent caged where light tore it’s fingers bloody trying to reach her, and so she never carried sunlight on her tongue. Instead, she had the light of an albino moon freckling her skin, broken only by the shadow of a horse’s mane, or wavering...

[wildflowerveins]

my heart has never fallen in love

because my heart is a pulsing beating

thing that is meant to pound blood

through the highways of my veins,

not flutter and skip beats like skipping stones

and drop when i see a grin or taste a kiss or

hear a voice.

i get headaches sometimes because i...

[starvingsilence]

Dear little girl,

I'm leaking slowly colourless gleaming fluid  collecting into a pool  beneath me I can see a reflection - a ragged girl with blood shot eyes and rosy cheeks but not the cheerful kind She's holding locks of auburn hair from her pale fingertips and I'm beginning to think  there's a wind because her figure is trembling  viciously but it's just her petite frame rattling she is barefoot and I see crimson dotting her feet because of the broken glass and stony pavement to give her a pair of bright red flats and her eyes they say nothing but her lips are moving and I strain to listen but nothing can be heard her lips are trembling and there is nothing to be heard i bend lower closer to the pool and the girl mirrors me her expression turns into  one of curiosity but the look of hollow desperation and resignation   is not expelled from her features her hands reach out toward me and I feel a chill piercing my fingertips shooting up my arm as I reach the pool and the girl wavers for a second dear ragged girl, you are strong you will be whole again you will get through this 

dear ragged girl, do not shake button up your coat and cover up the gaping hole in your chest 

dear little girl,

you will walk away but for now your heart will stay so leave it and move on

[starvingsilence]

Hollow.

I don't know how eloquent I can be when I talk about you for words skitter around my tattered lips and come out in chains encasing my neck and suffocating me the butterflies have moved from my stomach to my throat and they are steadily rising  wings of razor blades cutting open my insides and exposing the black hole  forming inside of me their wings form gashes against the insides of my mouth and before I know it I am vomiting rivers of false promises and feeble attempts at convincing people I'm okay I feel the blood collecting in my throat and something dripping down my cheek but my hands are not the deep crimson they should be when I reach for these waves

tell me, what are these oceans falling from me? Am I broken, from the inside? Am I faulty leaking dysfunctional?

Because my lips they never quiver as they have begun to and my voice it never trembles as it has started to I can't shake this feeling of something inside of me

There are ladybugs skirting on the edges of my ribcage and their pincers echo on cracked bone as they scurry about make the uneasiness spread to places I didn't know existed

can you stop it? can you hold me in your arms  and steady my shaking frame

please

please

please?

[skysaredoorwayshome-deactivated]

I met a boy named Phoenix who told me he came back from the dead more than once, with flames skirting his hips, and ashes still stuck between his teeth. I think there was a bird singing from his lungs every time I trailed him with curious lips, and wandering fingers. There was something desperate...

[starvingsilence]

Oh my goodness, two of my favourite writers in one collab. This piece is unbelievably amazing! <3333

[starvingsilence]

Mirroring the golden.

Once upon a long time ago I used to write poems that began as seeds at the base of my spine and slowly snaked up  vines encasing each vertebrae shrouding the yellowing bones and after a while shy buds would begin to choke me crawling up my trachea and peeping over my throat until I suffocated and spewed out the blossoms that would burst out of my mouth demanding the sunshine that entered through the cracked walls I lived in

The roots of my flowers never left me they would sink deeper  and deeper encompassing my intestines and curling around my hipbones so when I ran my fingers along them I felt the words etched into tightly stretched skin straining not to rip  with the weight of all the depth of my verses

I read somewhere that poets bleed words and rhymes but when I brought a silver blade to my calloused fingertips all that came out  was a glaring crimson So I don't call myself a poet anymore

When ever I breathe in the air around me I feel jagged words scrape the walls of my throat and drag along their vowels slowly so I may feel every letter being branded into  my raw flesh These consonants; incoherent and at the best nonsense flutter inside me dance along my lungs and crowd around my air passages until I cough up stanzas

Whenever I'm outside I feel them skirt along the edges of my lips darting in the spaces between my teeth and floating around uneven cerulean veins at the base of my tongue 

Tell me Am I allowed to call myself I poet? Or will you label me a fraud for drawing words in the sky  with a trembling hand Can I sing myself to sleep with verses? Or will you bring down a glinting dagger calling me unoriginal and slicing through my stained wrists

Can I still dribble ink from my fingertips, or will that make me shallow so you can burn the snakes that slither from my tongue reducing them to ash that you shove down my throat leaving me choking on secondhand poems and empty stanzas

[starvingsilence]

Addicted.

when I kissed him I could always taste  the poison on his tongue that flowed through his bulging veins with each beat of his unsteady heart

it was addictive his toxic kisses I think a part of the substance would leak into me that's why after we kissed I saw stars skittering on the edges of my ashen fingertips 

The smell was intoxicating That's all he ever smelt of; the back of restaurants;  the front of pubs those groups of people among lethal clouds deafening time bombs only I could hear

I was never allowed my hungry eyes only followed him when he left every once in a while packet of cigarettes in hand and when he returned I would assault his blackened lips and my tongue would search his mouth for the venom my body craved I don't think he cared much with his doped smile and lopsided beanie

his hands would find my waist those thursday evenings we met up and my lips would find his

in that way he was my drug for the taste  of recklessness and decay that skirted along his crooked teeth and ashen collar bones I used to trace with my fingertips so they would smell like him afterward

we didn't talk much just sat in silence watching the speckled sky as rings of necrotic fumes floated above us and faded into the sober night

[starvingsilence]

Tarnished.

I'm watching needle thin cracks snaking up my bones and branching out into wires encasing my brittle skeleton

A tremor and I shall shatter  into filthy porcelain scattered on the floor

You do not want me I am broken my luster has faded and my frame is withering away as each grain of time blows past right in front of my tired eyes with shadows lurking beneath them and unused, virgin lips far too bitten to brush yours

I am broken my luster has faded and you deserve better somebody who whispers stanzas into the plane of your collarbones someone who breathes love notes into your wrists 

and lays their head on your warm chest to listen to the sweet lullaby of your thundering heart