i am not

[visceralsuggestion]

ambiguity, my most hateful vice; to define is to exclude, to preclude, to predict. water takes the shape of its container.

[visceralsuggestion]

Hard light makes hard shadows. Be soft and glowing and diffuse and wholesome

[visceralsuggestion]

you were always a study in lycanthropy.

one moon, cloaked in coarse fur, something in your eyes wild as starlight, fangs and quiet fury

the next, skin smooth as glass, clever lying lips, human shaped but unable to fully hide a forest in you

[visceralsuggestion]

your tears only ever fall in the dark, when your wounds have scabbed over at the end of the day, when your heartbeat has slowed, when your shoes caked in mud are discarded by the door, when bed is the relief

[visceralsuggestion]

i dreamt i knew the language that shaped the stars. i dreamt i smiled and kissed the palm of my hand and whispered your name, and that was the birth of light. i dreamt we made a home in the void between galaxies.

[visceralsuggestion]

the creaking of a broken mind, your body a house with termites in the floors;

rotting wood where there should be bones, outside the wail of a cold wind as it shakes:

“if ever there was anything in you that was a home, it’s been long since abandoned”

[visceralsuggestion]

hearts on sleeves leave stains.

[visceralsuggestion]

if you were me, your bruised and bleeding knuckles would be medicine to you too

[visceralsuggestion]

it is night now and dawn is far but i’m certain of the new day; in its golden light my body will be words and weapons, a bible for souls in search of grace

[visceralsuggestion]

you were a god and i was nothing; 

then you were mortal and i became alive;

then you were a god and i found a hunger as holy as any prayer become fire and ash and fate on my lips

[visceralsuggestion]

you stand a nonbeliever in front of a god swallowed by time and breathe a prayer you didn’t know was in you 

to the echo of divinity in their eyes, a reflection of something holy and untouchable in your own. 

[visceralsuggestion]

hound, howling and hungry, your chain too tight and leash too short; who would blame you for throwing yourself against them until your throat is as red and raw and angry as your broken heart

[visceralsuggestion]

ghost child, you're a figment; just dead enough to hurt

[visceralsuggestion]

another me sits in my chair and waits for me to come back.

i don’t. it hurts.

[visceralsuggestion]

i have a recurring nightmare that looks like you. it says, "i love you," and "come home," and stares at my heart (on a chain, around my neck) with black, starving eyes.

[visceralsuggestion]

can't decide if it's a comfort or a bitterness knowing the world would continue if i didn't.

[fluff-oh-suggestions]

Replace my blood with vodka, glitter, and paint; reform my bones with wax, tea leaves, and band-aids.

[corvid-suggestions]

Replace my blood with whiskey, dust, and ink; reform my bones with straw, rose petals, and cellophane.

[detectivesuggestion]

Replace my blood with coffee, smoke, and bleach; reform my bones with paper, splinters, and duct tape

[venomsoda]

Replace my blood with poison, lies and fire; reform my bones with thorns, knives and glue.

[driftingsuggestions]

Replace my blood with candle wax, morphine, and glass shards; reform my bones with brick, stone, and silver.

[inkcrowns]

Replace my blood with bile, whispers, and moonbeams; reform my bones with feathers, pens, and brambles. 

[mad-god-suggestions]

Replace my blood with gasoline, lidocaine, and perversion; reform my bones with broken glass, razorblades, and broken nails.

[blazingsuggestion]

Replace my blood with fire, champagne, and perfume; reform my bones with guitar picks, power lines, and sunflower stems.

[conflictingsuggestions]

Replace my blood with laughter, confusion, and rain; reform my bones with musical notes, poems, and cubic zirconium  

[darkwatersuggestions]

Replace my blood with saline, shadows and pressure; reform my bones with ichor, obsidian and broken coral.