#m444rtyrcomplex

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

early sunsets graves over at monroeville

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

~~pray for us~~

(i drew the keposhka myself)

repost from my fan blog!

disclaimer: i make graphic collage pieces using found imagery, textures, and pop culture iconography. everything I create that uses assets that aren’t creative commons is non-commercial and remix based. I do my best to credit when possible, and always welcome conversation with original artists & photographers

i also show the original assets on my fan blog post here (i got them from pinterest)

shoutout to my friend helena who said “she looks like she’s forgiving our sins” that inspired me to make this on picsart :)

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

i feel like i never really did quite know where to place myself without forcing myself into some sort of shape that i never understood anyways

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

mother, is this art yet?

do my calloused fingertips that smell of rust and wood amuse you?

are my bleeding and starving worthy of your umbilical windfall?

do my words cut deep like caesarian incisions,

or do they elude you like the mysteries of raising a teenage girl.

one.two. soon, three times over.

who raised you, mother?

i am here to tell you it’s okay to cry.

i am here to beg you for compassion or an ounce of maternal warmth.

child, teen, and, creature.

all that i am.

let me be there to share with you

what you wish you had.

because in your authority, i am bitter

but with your vision, i am sweet

you must let me unfurl

i’m not here to out-pain or compete.

so i will do what you couldn’t have done

that which you couldn’t even dream of

wielding that shelter you so desperately insist i possess

and i will live to break it

mother, is this art yet?

-m444rtyrcomplex, don’t tell my mom #1 (a series of poems)

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

but you see everything is promised

everything but you

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

“ hello action cat “

do you miss me?

cause i miss you.

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

epilogue in ode to

[tragician-is-not-in-love]

i’m lost in soft focus

the blurring of lines

the obscuring of vision

tunnel enough to begin with

a whirlpool of sight and sound

second guess souls

it’s the eyes, i could feel the frailty in your voice

nothing feels like you

like dull heat on a sunday afternoon burning through sheer curtains

i want you off of me

i want you out of my system

i don’t like the way your presence distorts my logic

strands of hair on the clean lines of my tile floors

green spirals, brown envelopes

word files, acrylic scrawled with the might of hands that ache to build for most of the day,

sweating.

typing.

fractals of emptiness spectate my 11th hour

and you?

you toss air in my direction

like i’m supposed to do something when i’ve done absolutely all that i can

so,

fine.

i didn’t realize i cared this much

or at least not in this way

i despise being disarmed

being glass

never with you

never want this

i tell myself that far too much