#elysianink

[astraque]

And when you smile at me,

your fingers curved around a muscle,

the sly bow of your fingernails digging

into the heart and the rivulets of blood

trickle down your teeth,

(or is it your tongue slipping forked behind your back)

--you are so contorted a mirage that has splintered,

i wonder do you think,

are you so sure in your footing

that your eyes scream innocence

When fox-king, pads into the shallow grave

you sleep in each night

as if an earth meridian can prevent moonlight

from revealing your soul

A patchwork of cobbled-together parts:

I see the snake’s tongue pressed into your shoulder blades

and the wings sprouting out of your forehead

but fox you are in your heart and I see you

ready to swallow it whole with your wolf-teeth 

Are you ready to pray? 

to the river water

to cleanse you of your sins

and has the blood congealed between your human fingers,

the only puzzle-piece that  you that you got right,

so you can’t beckon the pure

So smile at me

it won’t metamorphize you

into a creature

innocent

(and i sure as hell

won't’ smile back)

innocence//Azrael Fíernen

[pringapip]

Mild Child

I was born into a world

I can no longer live in.

The skin I’ve grown,

It’s color is

No longer

Vivid.

—

I dream

Dream and dream

Of being the child I was

Wild

A temper only mild

But now I’ve grown.

-

im scared

“Darling,”

You tell me

“We’re all scared”

But my fear is not the same

As your fear.

-

We fear different things:

You of change

And I of things

-Staying the same as

-They are

-right now.

—

Haunting, isn’t it?

—

Wild child turned mild child.

-TM

[thesesummersonspoet]

You are not a Mona Lisa you're still unfinished but that's fine by me you see, it's realer that way, you aren't done telling the story of your life  and people are messier than paintings. Most of us are caught between sketches - far from complete.

mona lisa // a poem

[tiffs-poetry]

[witnessthestars]

Don't go looking for signs in the woodwork,

there is nothing but worms to find there

and struggle all you can, dear,

it won't bring the summer days back,

it won't unmake your youth.

Don't put your fingers to your mouth if you're looking for blood,

there is a lot of sharp things around but your tongue

was never one of them,

don't slip your fingers down my spine if you want to be burned,

I have soft things to hide too.

So you ask me to gut you

like a lizard's underbelly when

I was nine and full of sharp nails,

you say break me like that glass, like when you were upset and wanted to hurt something

but never really dared to.

So you want

the things my father gave me,

a gunshot to the brain,

the urge to bite, even when I know the footsteps,

the way I walk too loud and

still wear my church pew bravado like

it can still give me something.

So you want the blood,

don't you?

And only ever got punched but never bled on the carpet in a way worth calling art,

never made something sharp out of broken bones.

So, we all have things to hide under the bed

and call them monsters, don't make me into one of them,

I know you wanted to bleed

but the only thing to come out of my mouth

is teeth.

a wolf is still a wolf if it doesn't bite.

[starsmattersinpoetry]

life takes your breath away if from beauty or fear it doesn't fucking matter because you are choking, choking, choking scratching at the skin of your own throat creating red lines to show them that you understand you understand that this life isnt worth living & you understand that living leaves you dirty so lose yourself at the bottom of a bottle or with your hands stained red we all have our habits to fight off the boredom and the ways we kill ourselves without taking our lives you whisper about suicidal tendencies into the girls ear you met at the local gas station because you understand you understand that we all need to feel the weight of this world & you understand that we need each other bleeding to not feel alone

[dg-fragments]

If you want something, you have a reason to live

//Sitting by the pavement, cursing himself, life and pretty much everything else, His sight lingered upon an old man, wearing a coat 4 or 5 sizes larger than his. It was raining pretty heavily and the old man was smiling,  He found that pretty bizarre as judging by the old man’s condition, rain wasn’t good for him.// //He had run away from his home, with the thoughts of ending his life, Very much suicidal he was, but in a corner of his heart he longed to be pulled.// /Why so serious, said the old man to him, Come out, for you don’t know, you may like the rain./ /I’m running from life, I don’t care about rain, It’s no good for you either, you should take shelter or you’ll get a cold./ /What is it that you want, in life, that you didn’t get, Things or people you thought you needed and it didn’t happen?/ /What does it matter what I want, you don’t get what you want,  Not here anyway, and I don’t know what’s out there./ /But you do want something, that counts, you may not know, I’ve seen many people who didn’t know what they wanted, and they went mad./ /Why does wanting something keeps a person from losing it, I wonder, because I only know wanting something guarantees nothing./ /You see, when you want something, you try, try to achieve it, You put in efforts, you struggle and you strife hard, yes you may not get it, But the process matters, it is what makes you alive, it gives you the reason,  To live, to breathe, a purpose, life becomes worth living again./ /I never thought it this way, I don’t know what to do./ /Go back, people love you, live your life, be kind, And remember that it’s your actions that define you, If you want something, you have a reason to live,  Don’t lose it./ - AA

[aphelionbruise]

The Dangers of Convincing Yourself the Side Chick Gets a Happy Ending

When you meet them, you will fall in love, because that’s how it works, they are filled with so much more light than you have ever seen, you feel like the dimmest star but they illuminate you like Sol to Luna. they will call your words beautiful where other people called them unholy, and you will debate cat names and foreign countries. you make them promises that you actually want to keep.

you are not their soulmate but you’ll tell yourself you are, and once they tell their partner it’ll be okay, and you can say those words out loud and over and over again until your breath is barely an inch apart from theirs, and it feels real. they will make you the kind of girl who says that love is soft and enduring even while you are just their secret.

they did not love you, or at least not enough, or at least they loved someone else more, you are a backup plan and do not pretend otherwise.

when you find out that you are, of course, nothing more than a truck stop rest area, and they are headed to some great love that you will never feel, you will be left only with far too much poetry and the nights you stayed up for them to your own detriment and how people told you that you are too young to be in love. but you thought you were in love.

so turn up the music, scream it at the creek, compartmentalize until your mind doesn’t even work at all, and remember, you are a truck stop rest area. people are always ending up with you, but they do not stay for long, because your heart is just a liminal space and no one can be persuaded to stay.

and you cannot even say that you broke up because you were never really together to begin with.