#spilled throughts

[runarelle]

Immortal bodies, young hearts. You've been here before. Every part of you is eternal, You've been through every legend and lore. Atoms forged in star fire, Running through life again and again.  The blood coursing through your body, Coursed through someone else's veins.

[el-oh-her]

You're ten years old and you don't know you're Eve.

For every Eve there is a Fall and an Adam to skirt the punishment.

Tomorrow God is coming to the garden. To figure out what happened with the apple.

--Do you [Foster] care about me? (Poetry book I'm working on!)

[uraniumglassbong]

Man, old enough to tell me stories Canadian tuxedo Taking a phone call I can’t hear in his car The door cracked for the dog in the passenger seat. Woman, streaks of grey in her bun, Winged liner, white apron, Greasing her hands at the restaurant with sticky counters and creaking booths The one that sells glass-bottle soda On my way to the library. Man, the wrong suit and age for running, Running, Folder clutched to his chest Like the insurance can’t wait one more second, Red hand reaching for him. Man, eyes closed, white t-shirt, Roller-skating under the pipe organ with a smile on his face, Says we’re doing a good job while we’re sliding across polished wood On our asses, Heaven is a roller rink. Rusted-over truck at the side of the road, Pink and blue, the words “Foreclosure is NOT the answer!” Painted on the side in the kind of Reckless, last-ditch way that ads Are always painted on the sides of cars. Girl and boy, dressed almost the same, Leaning into each other’s necks over a library table, The mystery section behind them And everything else in front. Me, black skirt and Doc Martens, Glass-bottle soda and ankles still sore from roller-skates, Catching myself in the mirror on the way out the door, Like the white fluff that spring puts in the sky, And smiling.

case studies by @awalkingthesaurus

[darlfinch]

018.

I’ll take you seriously.

Wind-chapped legs on you like sweater-edge seats, thighs like Disney princess placemats, knees around the middle yanked up, they fold and neatly knock a man’s teeth out.

She said she had a secret girlfriend in high school. She said they skipped class to make out in the trunk of her brother’s car. But they were caught and she never saw her again.

What he’d give to fondle a pretty face: his name added to a red-spined binder, his photo printed in color but only if his credentials are blacked out. What he’d get: a door key to a treatment room, the number to a carpet cleaning service.

Burnished silver year of shorts: short supply, short rests, short fuses, short tests.

Run a blade over and around, through the trees and underground, run it winter and run it cold, kiss it now, softly told, the sun glints wide and shaken rinds of afternoon din rankle in their hour long of my sin.

– darlfinch / streams 018.

[amphibrachic]

Stuck in the middle

I’m stuck in the middle

Somewhere between winter-time and fall

Where the leaves are browning and littered on the floor

All the ugly things are yet to be swept under the rug

covered with frozen smiles that gleam far too bright

I’m stuck in the middle between dying with splendor and being kept safe in time

A frozen exhale caught before my heart stops beating

My body not transferred into an ice coffin

Instead pallid flesh on display for the whole world to see

Stuck in the middle//Azrael Fíernen

[el-oh-her]

Bones pulled out from under your skin the ravaged flesh still has use, wrapped  around the white posts to push back the cold  blood flows out of the gutter to the street

From Temple to the False God || Erin Lewis || Word-Nerds-United

[internationaltaste]

Sleep my dear child

Lay your head upon your pillow and

Drift into slumber

Forget about realities expectations

Dream of your hearts desires

Live the life you wish during the night

Cause darling when the lights turn on

Dreams disappear in life's

Never ending catastrophe

A chaotic mess of never living

So don't stay awake while the Sun is down

Rest and sleep for tomorrow's dreams

[internationaltaste]

She screams Until her throat burns Like the wild fire in her chest But only internally She could never voice Her own opinion Stuck in the backwash Of other people's dreams While she became lost Within their screams Never finding a voice Of her own

Are you listening? (via I.N.T.)