Shot in the Dark
Metal mirrored chamber
Shadows at my six
Dreams in the revolver
Lightning round of clicks
Hammer haunts what’s hidden
Chambered scars, my heart
hollow . pointed
. . .
. . .
. . .
you’re slowly leaving my mind
in the same way that birds leave
before a storm
heading & flying to a better~
Then I wonder if the birds will come back to my garden.
I guess they also fear that they’re fresh meat,
You know I don’t mind the rain, it’ll help my plants grow in splendor
Here is the link to the splendid Original work by Undermeyou:
(Link to undermeyou's original post is below)
My mouth is, honestly,
My gate of protection.
But the rest of me knows
This is a gate of destruction
And also, perhaps is a gate of reduction.
It forces the scales on my floor
And my clothes
That I paid such a lot for
They are hanging;
My frame like a hanger of lessening weight!
I walk the line
Between starvation and
Yearning for fullness
But always weighed down by desires and hunger.
And thrown underground;
I’m buried and covered,
While still my breath gasps
And I cry to be fed
Before my life lapses
And then I am free
Shakes, waffles and rolls
As the earthquake inside me,
Like the milk floats away
From the mother cow’s udder
Aching and stained with ice cream on the top.
This is not what I ordered
But still take the float
And resist all the bloat!
After evening fell, the stars arrived
After evening fell, the stars took in breaths of midnight cinder
After evening dropped into darkness, the children came to float about,
sprinkle life onto the barren stone
The powder white of the moon
The tears rolled down, dripping from porcelain
In drops of silver mercury
I raise my head
and called above
Mouth open as if to scream
Begging for a taste of starlit rain
and at last, it comes, the first
I let myself drown and absorb its radiance
The celestial crystalline coalition of melted cryogenic calling
Out of every one
But eventually the rains run thin
and the sky begins to close
Eventually the clouds drift away
and with the poisonous greed I am left alone
And I realize
I have taken
everything I could
even from myself
and all that’s left is rotting nothing
empty, stripped filth
The air has grown colder
the world is freezing once again
I reach out in desperation
fury, feverish, failure
I tear the lights down from the sky,
rip away the world
trying to find something beneath
the night’s already over
Original - https://theprose.com/post/277191/zenith-nadir
What you stole from me
I remember our skin pressed together hot at seventeen. Your breath on mine, whispers of wanton lust barely held. I remember long nights in your basement room. Kitchen lights closed, maid walking in on us. We laughed, and you pushed harder. I moan. Like a kitten purring for another stroke, I remember. Lazy days in my bed behind a locked door. Rays of sunrise through the curtains. Your eyes, glowing with passion. I remember the sun bringing your freckles out to play and toasting my skin to your favorite shade of me. Pushed to the wall in a dark alleyway. No one's around. My mouth wrapped on you, sucking, loving how you moan my name. I remember your fingers creeping inside of me playful on train rides to the city. Both a little excited. One weakens, the other strengthens. Your mouth sleepy on my own and your arms pulling me into the cradle of dreams. You were so beautiful. And I remember waking from the dream in a desperate fever. Dead phone lines. Cold, cold eyes. Unanswered letters. Unread voice messages. Lonely sheets. Wet pilows, from tears unstoppable. Hands wanting to reach out, but never finding something to hold on to. It was like how we first started. Sweet. Painful. And bruised love thrown to its knees. The floor its only brace. Once again, left alone. Escape, I found in books. I could stay here. I could go away. You were like the stars, following me wherever I go. Tonight was just another, of many more to bear. Sheets hugging me as I cry myself to sleep. Lost in memories. Lost in the love only you can fill. Hope will find me tomorrow. It's time to try again. The sun rises, the snow drifting in as summer disappeared. I smile. What I lost with you, I'll find within me. I rise.
I miss you like the rain must miss the sea. Like moisture that got removed from the body and travelled upward to form a cloud. The cloud drifted slowly away and all I could do was watch until it was out of sight.
The cloud joined other clouds and turned the sky grey. Eventually it became a storm. The sky flashed in the distance.
I knew the rain was coming down, back to the body. To be whole again. I also knew that the next storm was coming, and you’d be gone.
I miss you like the rain must miss the sea. Do you miss me?
While I slept, you found your way above me and held onto my throat with your heartless hands.
“Please stop!!” I begged you to withdraw.
The classic, evil, sadistic smile etched your face. You looked like a complete maniac.
“Why should I?”
“Because you and I, we’re literally the same person”.. I yelled with my broken, coughing tone.
“Then why do I want to kill you?”
You made the kind of face which people make when playing dumb, and you were playing an insane amount of dumb, you knew why you wanted to take away my life, and I totally understand, afterall, we are the same person.
I wanted to say why, but my voice would’t let me.
You broke the silence...” I don’t like you, and you don’t deserve to live”
I thought “If I die, you’d die too...”
And that was it, the death of two personalities, but one human.
Use, Quit, Repeat (The original was beautiful)
If I could take your addiction, I’d press my lips to yours and let it slither in like a hunting snake. I palmed the cigarette from your pack, palmed it, lit it, smoked it. It burnt my throat. It hurt. I didn’t ask for another. I crushed the pills from your pocket. Crushed them. You always looked so beautiful with your head down. Head down and nose against the glass of the table. I breathed in. Like you, it was euphoric. But my nose bled the next day, dripped onto my favorite pillow. Once white, once pure, now stained. Eyes red, my head is in your lap, I don't sleep in my own bed. I need you, I want you, I have to have you. Itches. My skin itches. I'm sweating but shivering, the light is off, the blinds are drawn, where did you go? You've been gone. I palmed a cigarette from my pack, I palmed it, I lit it, smoked it. It burnt my throat. It filled my lungs. I lit another, trading one addiction for another. Kissing my illness into my new lover.
Say it. Repeat it. Again. My name, slick oil spill
slipped second, lost eternity, y que, qua
lengua language mylar streamers slither between my ears,
my mind molar, my syllables
verticle back stroke, aerial off shore diving
drilling deep gray cloud cavities
vacuous mouth crypt, empty lair of dust and earthen
air. Skinless. Skinning that word back again like kernels of teeth off corn
paper cuts, web-bubbled drool-dribbled
hollow human heart balloon
into this cadaver swamp
if this is all there is, these fireworks of fleeting tooth marrow
then leave me
gutted like Ophelia
ephemeral museum manic pixie
frozen in toxic oil
buried on the tip of your dead tongue.
Where It Hurts
I remember the sunlight softening the crease of your thunders of laughter, the stain of your breath in the air. You were running wild, untamed and bare feet. The sun had you caught in its orbit. I met you there. Your eyes were black but when they caught mine, they were blazing red gold. They were pits of fire stars. I died in each one. I met you in a wrenching collision of aftermaths. I met you in loud, summer hallways, cold nights, silent mornings. I met you on February 5th. I know the exact point where your heart used to meet your eyes. I remember your hands. You had a birthmark on the inside of your wrist that fit the shape of my cupid bow. You kissed sharp, loud, short but deep, intense and drew blood; like the way you talked, walked - like you belonged. It’s September 30th and I still have the shape of your teeth tattoed on my soul. It’s September 30th and I still have the shape of your fingerprints tattoed on my soul. I know how you liked your coffee, two drops of sugar plus a drop of honey. Sweet; with a bitter aftertaste. Like life, you said. You tattoed my name on your skin; big, wild and bustling with colour and carved deep in your skin. Like fire; like it was a dare. You looked like you just grabbed the sun with your bare hands. I can trace the past to you. You and your smile. You and your silent kisses. You and your warmth like the sunrise. You and your words. You, you, you. Saturday 2nd March, you were sprawled across the couch. Your eyes glinting as smile hides behind your hands as you watched me. Heat pools in my stomach even at the thought of you. My heart heavy with something indescribable; something dark and very, very oh soft at the edges. It was Sunday 15th. The window was open and I remember the cold air on your face. I remember your smile. You red-faced, cheeks hollow as you tried to gobble the stars. You were drunk and laughing. Later, when I was alone, I could still feel your presence: heavy, soft. I could trace the exact shape of your fingers on my heart. In a sky full of stars - you were looking at me, wide-eyes breathless. And in the end, you ended up swallowing my heart. There’s a spot in my ribs in the exact shape of you. It’s December 31st and I knew what forever tasted like: thunder, summer heat, lightening, laughter and madness -
You forgot my name.