literature

everything I'm becoming

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intricately-ordinary's avatar
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Literature Text

two weeks until the end of the world,
and i’m busy stockpiling all my regrets,
writing letters to flaws i don’t care
to fix, and trying to learn to draw
infinity. it’s time for two truths and a lie:

1. i was drunk for an hour on
good vibes and loneliness and
that quote “from the moment we
are born we begin to die”

2. and god, Bianca, you still show up
in my dreams; glaze-eyed and
more vocal than you ever were
when you were half-alive

1. (how close i came to arctic happiness
when you froze in my mind,
snowflake breath lingering like
the soundtrack of my breakdown)

now, she tells me she is sick
of the clothes stretched tight like
a second skin, and the gaping silences
between her ribs, and the singsong
unimportance glazing over her
hollywood-hangover eyes. she blossoms

like an earthquake, finally
growing into the goosebumps
and hollow bones her father
gave her-- i want to cure the world,
use a freeze ray to halt time
and kiss every empty wound;

i'm becoming poison, and i’m sorry
my neglected hallucinations
share the floor where i sleep.
dear madalyn, they don’t make

medications to give you a purpose.
all alone, you were digging graves
in stardust and writing epitaphs
in the blood of your own self-inflicted
paranoia. now, the schoolchildren pick

dandelions for your recovery, and
their mothers weep as they see their own
offspring reflected in your eyes.
© 2013 - 2024 intricately-ordinary
Comments36
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haphazardmelody's avatar
I know this comes from a place of deep pain...it's beautiful, and reading it makes me ache.

You are beautiful. I hope you know that. :heart: