#streetsiding

[mushroomsink]

only real things can hurt me

[ivyburied]

originally published in eunoia review | e.k.

[sunsounds]

axinomancy

baby, if i rip out the jasmines growing from your  lungs and string them into a crown to wear on  every rooftop in town, would you say that’s a  little like love? it’s okay, you can have the streets and i can have the skies and we’ll dress up in each other’s skins when we want to switch. 

baby, you can gouge my eye out and keep it in a locket like a love-token. i won’t hate you for it  unless you hate me first, but this isn’t a promise  until you’ll let me break it. i’m not dying until you make me, does that make sense? we’re not out of here until you lead us — i won’t look at the path, just at your back, just at your teeth.

this isn’t an indictment, but maybe it’s a prayer. would you let me pray to you, if i knelt and wore our crown and let you cut my throat? baby, there are no blasphemies in this land, we’re all gods  here, we’re all dead things here. isn’t that a little like love if i scrape your skull open when i say it?

[verilies]

2020.02.01 

[marigoldreams-blog1]

g.s.s // wishing on constellations for excuses

for @avolitorial napowrimo prompt 20: sun sign

(text under the cut)

maybe romeo and juliet didn’t fit because of incompatible sun signs / i mean, doesn’t tragedy seem a little less tragic / when it’s all because of astrology? / i’d much rather believe in impossible things like / fairies or horoscopes or god / than accept disaster as an inevitability of humanity / but the more i read the more i believe / in the helpless entropy of everything / all craving chaos until it consumes us / and until our own complete disorder / we watch other things fall apart in some kind of sick, vicarious dying / we pick flowers just to watch them wilt / hoping for a little beauty from death / and we are born / no choice in the matter / knowing that it’s all just a sand through an hourglass / til we breathe one last breath / quiet and alone / if impossible things can exist / i have no more faith in god / all i believe is that he is old and jaded and tired gone / but at least i still have hope for sun signs to explain it all away

[coruscifer]

national poetry month recs day 20: this time the moon bears my name by @streetsiding

the moon is drowning and i am so thankless. she is swallowing brine, closing teeth on seafoam, throat rubbed raw in the sand.

[streetsiding]

hello! i'll be tracking #streetsiding from now on, so feel free to tag me in your writing and art! reblogs will go right on this blog!

[gentlesystem]

just a reminder that this is my poetry blog