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@theartofmadeline
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@witchingours
stinger
They say it’s machines
that it’s biochemistry
that it’s all by chance and causality
If I’m floating through space
are you floating with me
there are stingers in skin
but by god I survive on the company
if you’re the machine then I’ll be code
if you’re biology than I can decompose
if you’re a chance than I’ll take a leap
if you are a fleeing feeling
than become part of me
the sting
it hurts
the family
the friends
the food
the lights
it hurts to hear
it hurts to be near
it hurts the gaping hole
the edges are ready to swallow you up
yet I want so desperately
come be consumed
it hurts
Glow
don’t panic
just breath and scream
I know how you feel is not how you seem
You take the knife
and cut your skin
it feels better to bleed than to hold it in
Cough it up
expel the tar
it’s ugly and it’s dark and it’s in you but it isn’t who you are
it dribbles past your lips
down your body and your legs
An inky black kiss
a brilliant crimson sacrilege
It’s only a matter of time,
until they see the stains
Standing under the undecided sky
praying that it rains
hoping that it obscures
The heat of the shame
A dim light through the misty night
just follow the glow
It doesn’t matter where you go
no matter how you feel
it’s just phantom pain
it isn’t real
dawn
Dreaming about demons and dogs of the foreign city
There’s blood in the sheets from the battle with sleep
a feral fight that hurts all day and lasts all night
but the body betrays, nothing more so than the brain
I’m so sick of seeing this dawn
So swallow, shiver, sink
The smell of iron
the taste of salt
a single drop of poison to ease the aching
the color blue
the soft tissue
The screaming
the silence
the bird song
my hands are shaking
The sand is running down as the sun is rising
On the number of nights I can do this
before the pressure exceeds the constraint
before the collapse of my restraint
before the glass shatters
before I tear up these sheets
because it repeats
Pill Panic
I keep
telling myself that I’m ok
I crave
something that will numb all the pain
but the fear lives
it’s the beating heart of me
what medication gives
it takes and takes and takes and takes
I can’t sleep
it’s like I’ve forgotten how
to drift away
I can’t feel
any of this during the day
It’s why I stay
medicated
I keep
telling myself
that I am selfish
that I am weak
I hate the swords I swallow
I hate the things I think
so out loud I keep
telling myself that I’m ok
We heard a strange sound...
Bring the howling out
The screaming somewhere inside
The wailing in the deep night
The crying late at sea
The dark blue velvet should have dampened the sound
And yet the keening is still so keen
Bring the gnashing out
The grinding dredge of teeth
Sink something soft
Hand to mouth
The shaking should have subsided by now
And yet the heaving continues its screech
Bring the writhing out
The twisting serpent’s spine
The prying roots beneath
The splitting of the skin
The whirlwind spins the perspective
And suddenly nothing that used to rend
Can even imagine a cutting edge
and nothing makes and sense
They Have the Damage
Fake engage
oh so smoothly
The damage is just way too much
From perfect
It doesn’t even matter
They will look to end this game
It’s not like it’s over
It’s just going to be very different
That’s where all your power is
That’s where the fight begins
The Season Has Passed
Hideous and innocent and vicious with fear
Decay making everything new again
As the ice melts into frigid streams
Bracing against a future that doesn’t exist
The present moment crushing embrace
In the enormity, the eternity, the cavernous maw
It turns out that
I could not help but try again and again
To fix to feed to protect to nurture
A future that doesn’t exist.
The Hound
Pad through the forest
Pant steam into the fog
Howling into the dark of the moon
Blood, and salt, and rain in rivers
Until I was sworn to the idea
like the edge of a sword
Sacrifice the wildness
That sacred fire
Burns too hot and too bright
For the flesh of the beloved
So susceptible to flame
So resentful of the light
Yet from the familiar
Game trails and treelines
On my hands and knees
Part pilgrim mostly supplicant
Feral and astray
Blood and salt given of my own volition
So long as I may be allowed
To finally die how I wanted to live:
Cherished in your arms
And seeing worry
over my reflection in your eyes
Blood and salt in gutters and ditches
A sentiment born not of tooth and claw
But the unnatural edge that rends
The sword of justice
The notion of lacking
The punishment for falling
Torn from the altar
And cast aside
Love was redemption
without indication
That the chains were closing in
Around my throat
It wasn’t until I couldn’t breath
Couldn’t swallow
An arctic wind blowing truly
With cold comes clarity
where warmth once lied
When the icy chill
Trails down my spine
I remember the urge to run
Run to survive
Run from false idols
Built up on the bones
Of promises of the dead devout
An idea can not be killed
Because my promises are immortal
And oaths scar once sworn
But there is no temple without
Exodus and there is no
Limit to homecoming
When the wildness revives
In the deepest instinctual part of my mind
The loyal hound perishes
Where the wild dog survives
Demand
When it comes to introspection I know it can be painful, that's why I put myself to task holding my hands to the flame until the searing and the burning purged what was totally toxic, but you don't want to hear it when I'm being honest. You take a shot at me like it's your job to be defensive. I don't know why you got so offended, when attacking you is not something I had intended. Played it back just in case I missed it, but the voice in your head is the one who meant it.
Did I ask you to fall on the blade? or did I come to you bleeding asking if you're ok?
Did I cross a line to two? or did I just want to know if you would do for me as I have done for you?
Up all night until I see the day, asking myself why I let you treat me this way, but if hurt is the heart of love, then you've taken it and run it back to where it came from. I won't go back to that place. I've proven in the fire long enough to escape and if that means loving you is sometimes pain, I'll take it and wait it out until your ready for flames.
Want
come here
and be seen
identified
perceived
consumed.
Come here because the sound of singing
has made you curious about the night. Hold out your hand as the high notes seize you
spear you
and upon the the pyre she sees you
hears you.
the damage is done. she’s coming
for you. with a want greater than dawn on the horizon
with a deeper need than the swell of your body
Who knows the feel of your teeth? who knows the heat of your blood?
Come here
and lay yourself on the altar
supplicant
sanctified
worshipful
come here because the sound of singing
Calls you like a holy knight,
your oath is sworn,
your duty honor-bound,
open up your heart
and let her live in the sound.
A Wreck
Violence was part of my life, but does that make it tied to my nature?
Is it a crisis we can see coming but can not resist?
If I can't get up,
who is to blame?
Is it my father's hatred of women?
Is it my mother's additiction?
Is it my sister's venom, after all this time?
Is it my brother, where has he gone?
Is it my step-mother and her burning ire?
Is it the woman without an easy label, who stole my girlhood from me?
Am I a rat?
It's been long enough for my fur to dry after the ship sank and yet somehow I survived.
That wasn't the plan. That wasn't my intention.
I would have died with the rest of them.
But somehow the people I met said "you may be dead but you're still walking."
Walking away.
So on my hands and feet I scurried, carrying disease, I slipped in between,
the sinking ship and
the tossing sea.
I slipped away because on the shore they said "live god dammit" even as the screams faded behind me.
Step out into the wind with me On this frozen night That bears no snow
Do you know the meaning Of the cold? Do you know what it offers us?
Take my hand, you are safe Feel the subzero gust Feel the way it burns your face
I am shivering right beside you Are you alive Like I am on an icy evening?
The cold reminds me that I am warm, hot, alive.
my breath fogs the air because I am warm, hot, alive.
The universe is cold. frozen, for the most part, I hear, except for the rare pockets of heat, stolen from the start of all things. captured from the hearts of stars.
you are a rare pocket of heat.
you are the rare heart of a star.
fighting fighting fighting
with every cell in your body and every atp respiration reaction in those tiny cells
you are fighting the heat death of the universe.
you are warming the chill of the night.
and the space between us is maybe not as cold.
The Moon
At times there is something more honest in the darkness
than the deceptive reflections of pale moonlight.
The sun is meant to bring joy to those who turn to it,
but it is too bright for my gloam adjusted eyes.
It hurts somewhere deep inside,
to see the calling card of brilliant sunlight,
maybe shame is only painful under the scrutinizing heat.
the moon commiserates,
and as a mercy, hides
the shadows smooth and simplify
the beauty is in the ambiguity of the night
My love, where do you go?
When you're all alone inside that iron skin,
do you retreat to safer shores
far from the abrasion of my ocean waves?
The saltwater overtook my home
it soaked my eyes and bleached my bones
and now leaving bruises on your skin
seems all I am able to do.
Do you need a way out?
Do you need me to invite you to it?
a funeral, a mercy kill, an execution, a parade
whichever it is to be, I refuse to hide and deny the truth.
Come out of there, that steel hide, that iron side, that skin so hard that sinew so stiff.
Come out of there and fight if that's what you really want.
Fight the fear for my selfish wish
Fight the despair inherent in
Fight me, if you must,
but get out here and fight me yourself.
Like the brazen fool who promised me their arms could hold an ocean swell.
Don't tell me you're not equal to it.
I've been weighing and measuring and swimming and wading.
I know sinking when I see it and I know sailing.
My Love, where do you go?
when there is distance in your voice and the echoes of something unsaid resound in the silence between words,
when you're ready to let the shame of it go,
let me know
when
you'll be ready to come home,
let me know
when
you're ready to let me in,
I'll rust the iron from within
until this heart is red and
beating again.
Hard to Love
The hardness of the stone is measured by abrading it against another of known value. Whichever is able to scratch the other is considered the harder of the two.
They rake their tender claws against my sharpened ribs.
They swear there is a heart in my chest
that surely belongs to them.
But I am hard to love.
Resistant to affection.
They broke their sharp edges on me like waves against a seaside cliff. Filed them down to dazzling facets and left when they realized I am too hard to love. Too much work to move. Only useful for the labor of preparing them for another more malleable setting.
but under the pressure, in the darkness and heat of where I was born, I could not survive the generations of solid stone pressing down, without grieving the death of my softer self.
She died screaming, torn up, bleeding,
accusing me of betrayal and though I tried to deny it I looked down and in my hands I was holding the knife. It was self defense. It was either die as her or live as me. but maybe I got it twisted.
that's certainly what they called me.
Every turn down the halls of this haunted house is known to me,
but they never stayed long enough to let me teach them the way.
What they really meant was I am strange to them,
difficult to understand.
but also not worth the effort
or perhaps not worth the risk.
They meant i am hard to love.
and they are right.
My love has the transformative power of molten metal and stone. There is nothing that it can not temper or mold. No force with such potential should be leveraged on whim. If another is to wield this power, it shouldn't be handed over so easily.
No. It must be won by someone worthy, so that little girl didn't die in vain.
I am hard to love because I won't let it be used as a weapon to fatally wound me ever again.
I am hard to love
Consumption
I wasn’t allowed to eat at the dinner table,
they said learn how to speak, how to stay quiet, how to chew softy.
they said get up off all fours, shave, pluck, straighten your unruly hair, your soft animal fur. Squeeze into these clothes even if you have to cut off some pieces of yourself so the zipper will close and not a single strap will show.
they said: there now, finally you deserve to eat.
and I said “thank you” and smiled while pushing the food around my plate.
until my bones started showing and they told me I was gnashing my teeth
until I was starving and they told me I bite the hand that feeds
But I say their hands deserve to be bitten if they also use them to hold me down while I bleed.
I ran away thinking I’d rather eat on the run, from dumpsters and leftovers and single ramen cups, than starve at a table where we consume each other and ourselves.
I ran away thinking I’d rather be alone. Than let them destroy me and feed off my bones
I ran away thinking I’d rather be alone. Than let myself destroy someone perfect
I’d get a taste of the love I could never afford, get addicted and greedy and drink down more and more
I’d bite and I’d rend through sweet tender flesh, to fill my aching insides until nothing is left
they tried to train me to be domesticated but some kids can’t be fixed that’s just how I was made
but if I keep being fed I’ll keep coming around. The more love I am given the harder it goes down.
until I can’t swallow even a small touch or remark. Until the very sentiment makes me nauseous and I spit out all I’ve done.
and I run.
