Tell me that I am simple.
Two palms raised twilight and
sunlight and strawberries.
Make me feel that I am not permanent.
Show me that the moon carries my scent.
Effervescent and glowing, teach me
to be radioactive, retroactively--
I'd like to poison every man I meet.
Skin and bones and teeth can't make a home.
If I am three heartbeats from bursting,
bubble wrap and boiling water and burn scars,
did you love me? Or were you the keeper
as I built myself a cage, in your arms, between your legs.
Girls are built to harbor war zones in their ribs,
but they never volunteered for this.
If some things were made broken then why
was I made to feel it? If I am as whole as I will
ever be, why are there holes in my bones and
honeyed liquors in my veins? If my skin is paper, why was
I made to be touched? I am alive and weary.
I cry and it will never be enough.
for allisaacs, because i’ve owed you this fic for literally a hundred years and just got around to it. i suck, you’re awesome - here, have some erikira dogwalker au :)
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Kira asks, leaning against the doorframe.
It’s been almost a year of Erica having to say no, because she can’t. She’s not allowed to go anywhere without proper supervision, just in case she has a seizure and dies or something. Apparently the girl who is the closest thing she has to a friend, and a distracted dog, don’t count.
As if she knows that Erica’s thinking about her, Luna barks excitedly, wagging her tail so fast that she nearly falls over. Kira giggles, stepping slightly away to avoid getting hit with Luna’s surprisingly powerful tail.
“Not today. I’m busy,” Erica lies, and watches Kira’s smile falter just a little, like she had expected it after the last 49 times, but was still disappointed.
Or maybe Erica is just projecting.
“The, um, the new Iron Man’s coming out this weekend - are you going to see it?” Kira asks, leaning down to tug her sock further up her leg.
She’s so beautiful. Erica’s lucky that Kira can’t see her face from the doorway, or her perving would be so much more obvious. And then she would be all alone again.
She still can’t keep her eyes off of Kira’s cleavage.
“I’d like to,” she answers, finally managing to untangle the leash from Mom’s sewing kit. She doesn’t really know why that’s there, seeing as neither of them have ever sewed anything in their entire lives, except for a pathetic felt Christmas ornament in the second grade. “Are you?”
“Yeah. My dad says he’ll take me after school on Monday, since there’s supposed to be less people then, and my mom doesn’t really like having lots of people around when she watches movies. She says they breathe too loud,” Kira rambles, blushing when she stops.
“She should watch movies with my mom. They can tell each other to breathe quieter,” she offers, giggling a little. Kira’s clear awkwardness makes her want to protect her. Even though a girl like that wouldn’t need an epileptic freak to take care of her, even if she’s way too sweet to say so.
Kira smiles a little, her eyes darting up to meet Erica’s before fixing themselves on the floor, and Erica finds herself taking an unconscious step forward. The way Kira makes her feel is too big for her tiny body, like it seeps out from between her bones whenever Erica gets her to smile. She looks so cute, her cheeks lit up pink, and Erica wants to kiss her so, so badly.
Luna whines.
“I should g-”
“Do you want to watch a movie later, babe?” Erica blurts, only half thinking it before she says it, and suddenly she’s the one blushing. Babe. She’d called Kira babe, like they were dating, but oh, she’s not going to go down that dangerous road.
Kira looks up, finally, pushing her thin shoulders back and staring straight into Erica’s eyes. Her smile is so bright that it feels like everything else just… goes away. For once it feels like she can forget her acne and those extra pounds and the way she can’t go anywhere for fear of her body taking over.
“I’d like that.”
Erica really, really wants to kiss her. But she doesn’t. Not yet.
do not fashion me atlas;
i'm playing at divinity and my bones
are caving in from the weight of it.
(no one says how the constellations left blisters
where they sat white-hot against his shoulders,
or how it was all he could do to lift up the sky
without sinking to his knees every night
and mortals have fallen with less to bear
after all, no titan ever walked the earth
with a hollowed-out spine like mine)
do not let me come into this world
for it to spit me back out as a paradox.
i was not meant to break myself apart
just to make someone else feel whole.
i understand nothing about life. i mean they’re both individually adorable and together it’s double the endearingly dorky awkwardness but don’t they have like an eight year age gap
I HAVE BEEN WALKING FOR MILES
with steel in my veins and war in my throat,
and as much as you are a breath of fresh air,
i’d rust before too long.
YOU ARE RAW AND UNPRACTICED,
still trailing apologies in the wake of split
knuckles and flinching at your own strength.
you haven’t yet learned to live in this world
of steady shoulders and martyred hearts.
PRIDE IS SUCH A FICKLE THING,
and loyalty can be bought and bribed.
we’ve been on opposite ends of a battlefield,
reaching out our careless hands as if
we have only ever stood inches apart.
if this were a ceasefire, i could've loved you.
Whether dedication or omen, this is for
sigh-laden war declarations
map lines made battle routes
fault lines made cataclysmic
and laugh lines made lethal.
For the girl who razed Troy to the ground
or the one of not-so-empty prophecies
the unburnt girl in the depths of Kīlauea
who builds and destroys without apology
and, in a manner no less monumental,
for the girl who crosses canyons to find herself,
who takes the bus to the end of the line
to measure her fulfillment in the number of people
she can leave a smudge of her lipstick on;
who falls in love and falls in lust and returns home
just to stand victorious as the screen fades to black
and the credits slowly roll in.
My kingdom for the boredom of a teenage girl;
her kingdom if she bothers to demand it.
