#all lit

[angeltrash666]

That one night as all the others before you woke me up, gentle hands on my chin and whispering my name between each kiss. We were bathed in silvery delight but that is when, oh in the bright of the moon I saw it, you were carrying no shadow and I knew, I knew I knew. A second before waking up I knew. You were a vision from another world. Now I go to sleep like a visitor, but when I wake up I feel more like a tourist than ever before.

- “can you be at home in another universe?” Anne Berg

[charliewykes]

compensated nectars

Sweet nothings coupled With fruitless assumptions Bitter when unripened.

As the flavor leave visions Beyond dreams of comfort As hard take offs Stay soft in flight Lived out by day Alive by night

[angeltrash666]

My ghosts sing to me each night, but when the morning gives birth to me they vapour and I go about the day lonely waiting for the night; to sit in a circle with my traumas trying to summon recovery as if it was a demon. I talk to them more than I do my therapist. You ask why? Darling, this has always been my safe space, not that I am safe but when you’ve lived with anxiety for long enough you know how the fear itself can turn into a home, turn into a comfortable womb. I sit and talk and I myself slowly grow more transparent for each day.

“How to become a ghost” Anne Berg

[socks-bog-wench]

~Satisfaction~

[lonesomebigmike]

Winter

Boot stomped snow An aura left with holes From far too many footsteps Across my tired soul The soles of your feet Have never seemed so heavy Except after that first snow

[celtic-poetry]

you were almost breathtaking but then again it was probably just the thin air making me dizzy and not you, you were just a person i met on a whim like by mistake and honestly you looked like you really needed a shower or something

@celtic-poetry

[redcupdrowns]

Life as an Ancient Queer

CORE No skin. Is this going to make things better or worse. I found a pigeon once and that was when I learned. I figured the evening was going to end here boys are easy. The dance, the coffee, the wondering what's under there and then the answered question. I sometimes think everything is an experiment for your kind. I also sometimes think that's a better life. Compared to the responsible life, for certain. I learned that bones are next to nothing in weight, ultimately. They're so pretty. I can't say no. CORE No skin. There is a kind of sabotage in everything you do. It's like you're trying to break things and don't know it. I don't think people used to be like this. I've seen typologies of body hair, dividing us up into patterns. But you'd have to include age that testostorone never stops working. I thought I was the only hairless eighteen year old in the universe once. It's OK. People are flayed now. Peoples bones are white ash dirt daubers nests the way it crumbles like paper there's nothing left to touch its still looks like a thing the glow is gone a stiff breeze and we're less than nothing barely enough to make you cough a faint tickle in the nose I'm sorry it wasn't right I wanted to be warrior for the soul I wanted to be enough for everything saviors get killed. I thought something good would happen if I had my Thelma and Thelma moment driving right off the cliff alone pistols blazing into the mindless mind that's dreaming the place screaming about making terror your friend all I think I did is take years off a life I wasn't really ready throw away in protest. There are frozen piles of bodies out there and I wanted to believe there were pockets of life at the bottom someone curled up in an ice cave of flesh and organs hibernating for the winter and I wanted to believe I could do something for him lighting myself on fire and climbing a redwood respect your elders leave yourself as an ashprint on them you'll be in their rings for another two thousand years I can't be the last one I can't. Welp here's a hand towel I keep them under the bed this isn't my first time at the rodeo is your bus pass still good or maybe you use Uber. Not going to hide how I'm enjoying the view as you pull your pants up something was supposed to happen it always feels insulting if I lock the door too fast after they leave.

[sadierosesound]

chronic pain that’s a double shame and the flower guy won’t show up again he’s never too late ‘cause you’re always split and the man that you want is covered in thoughts of him, you threw up on the slot again three red cherries though and you won’t go home alone a ride in the rain of the bicyclists’ neck I’m sure no one is following you but would it hurt to look behind you and check? chatter, they have stuck you in a box this is why I am holding glue. dandy, the lions are less terrifying than humans. one kills for survival, one kills because it can.

your nightmares probably don’t look like mine