shewontsleep

that night, she went swimming for the first time in a couple decades she couldn't bear to feel the water measure her reflection, a chiseled jaw reflected, the absence of perfection, a posture left suspended and examined by the masses she looked down at the ocean floor, she whispered her confession: "my body is a forest, it was supposed to be a lake"

swimming

#poem #poetry

my hair is delicious when it turns into gravy the tendrils are so delectable the texture of each string carries its own vibrations wouldnt you like to dine on something bitter for once? you can only know the good if you get used to the bad but the bad cant leave your shed without a couple more dinners we could stuff our mouths together we could catch a couple chickens then decide that we forgive them cause it’s better to let things go when you decide that you are finished do you know what i mean?

gravy

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one day, your tears will rush out of you like canoes
and carve tiny rivers in your eyelids
and each ring will form its own island
and each tree will become a musician
and sing little songs that grow into stitches
and whisper the reasons for you to keep living

#poem #poetry

!!! this is so good

the cow nodded sagely as i wept into its sleeve - “have you grown tired of my rambling?", in reply i could only see the gleaming of flames that were trapped inside his eyes, the flames that could turn a thinking and feeling thing into a slab of beef, becomes the wine turned into blood for us to place onto our lips and drink he mumbled something like “thank you for you sacrifice” as the flames began to circle high my chickens absent a home from which to roost the barn devolves to chaos

flames

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i really appreciate that, thank you!

the summer stretched the air apart, a harbinger of coming grief the cosmos cast themselves a martyr, to wake the living from their sleep i used to skip stones on the surface, dreamt about making my own charter perhaps it’s anthropogenic to believe that there’s a trick up our sleeve that there is a semblance of grace to atone for the storms we have cast to the waves still, id like to stay a little longer will you teach me how to breathe underwater?

waves

#poem #poetry

reverse baptism, i rise foolhardy from the water, my head submerged in pillars of salt i chisel the image of angels and demons for each awkward pause and assault on the senses my root of existence is to prove to the exorcists that the harshest of hymns can still rot from their kindness from now on i make my own demons, i plant my own crosses

esrever msitpab

#poem #poetry

when i made this account a few months ago, i was terrified of sharing my art with other people

existing in this little corner of bluesky has been invaluable for me, and it has given me the confidence to keep sharing stuff.

thanks for being here.

a reminder, again, that AltNPS is a grifter account run by people who have no affiliation with the National Park Service and indeed who never did have any affiliation with the National Park Service. They have no sources, they have no information, they are purely there to scam you.

love this!

i no longer believe in dreams i only believe in the texture of clay i make my own limbs from the root of the sapling the beaming face of loving parents, i embody a marriage between suffrage and steel, body and bile, healing and W- -ill i ever become a tree no matter how tersely i drill into the ground? Will the rings around my eyelids ever propagate into tiny carousels go round and round and round and round and round and round an- -nd im not going to sleep until i see it through my veins, my physicality will i become what i believe? i repent of the causality like lifting off a lurid curse all fleeting like the fragile w-

clay

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love this

i emerged from the place that could not even bear to see the brightness on my face or trace the buried memories that scream so loud in their dreams that their eardrums start heaving with gallons of blood or something delicious like healthy breakfast options to manage conditions or relinquish contritions, either way the sausage gets made all the same

sausage

#poem #poetry

goodnight doggy im glad youre in my home i mean it’s just been a little nice to not feel so alone and i was worried you would scurry when you dug into my side but you see me through a different lens it’s not so black and white goodnight doggy ill see you in the morning my head is starting to cave into my eyelids i cant bear to look at you or curse you with my blindness but in your vision i am someone that deserves all of this kindness goodnight doggy i hope that youll forgive me when i cast forth all my demons and i see you running toward them in that moment i am terrified that youll never come back i shatter for a moment till you run through the horizon like swimming through an ocean with my heart still beating swollen and youre the one that holds it. what did i do to deserve you?

goodnight doggy

#poem #poetry

💙

this world is filled with music
you just have to make it
you just have to pull it
through your veins
get down on your belly
slither like a snake
see the golden statues
enacted in your name

#poem #poetry

there’s a crack in my mirror that tends to appear each time that you see me and don’t disappear like perhaps my reflection is just a perception that shows only all of my fear and maybe my eyes won’t have to stay dry if i unleash the dam of my tears just like dipping your toe into water with one foot on the ground and wouldn’t it be so nice to finally drown?

drown

#poem #poetry

my “home” was never broken it was shattered from the start like suffocating on a pillow in the backseat of the car while the audience smiles and laughs at the woman sawed in half the curtain slams down the scene starts anew it was still only you and the word became flesh and the flesh makes me wretch like the syllables lodged in the side of my neck scissors, red tape, the ceasing of breath i fear what i know for i know what i am

sometimes i hope there are many years left for me to live and other times i fear that ive already lived them like the tape that gets jammed at the very first track the spool winding backwards and playing it back i still hear the noise every time that it’s quiet the tenderness always bleeds back into violence

fable of a broken home

CW for violence, trauma imagery

#poem #poetry

there are moments in the stillness when i lean into the silence where im hoisted by a vision of the woman that id be if i grew up with the nurture of a thousand loving vultures that would wrap me in their talons and never once recede and if i finally felt a fraction of the fragment of the action that i begged for with my silence to quell all of the violence (or maybe just a bit.) would i then function like a person that was treated with respect? and could i gaze into your vision without the constant urge to flinch? and would i seldom be so burdened by all the things that i have seen? but then again would that woman even be me?

stillness

#poem #poetry

thank you so much, that means a lot to me ❤️

YouTube video by SideOneDummy AJJ - Small Red Boy

this poem owes a lot to "small red boy" by AJJ

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNeN...

her left ear never formed quite correctly because it resided the buzz of a bee that had burrowed itself deep inside from her birth and in which she believed that could be no cure and in the haze of her journey she was hopeful to find a figure to bear all the weight in her mind and see all the things that she buried inside for a buzzing too painful to hear on her own and a thirst that could transform a queen to a stone so she wandered through forests and lonesome asylums and she muttered a prayer for each moment of violence she felt from the sting of the welt in her eyelids

and one day she found herself inside of a village with vikings and pirates and cheering and music and she told them the plight of her cursed affliction and clung to the hope that somebody could hear it ‘nay’, said the man, pouring grease in his gullet ‘but ive heard of a witch that may know of the burden’ so they covered the town up with thousands of posters pictured: “THE BEE GIRL CRAVES HER BUZZING TO BE HEARD”

and then she got word that some lonely old doctor had once had a patient from which he had fostered some type of rare treatment to silence the hive and pull this accursed disease from her mind so she climbed up the hill to a cozy old mountain and coughed up the stingers like blood from a fountain and when she arrived at the doorstep so sunny she found that the doctor had drowned full of honey and so she carried on walking and tightened her grip but with the bearing of pain it was more a limp and she fell to the ground like the butterfly burdened and knew that there was but one semblance of hope left:

she steadied her nail and dug in her ear and she felt all the swarming and chaos appear but the bees did not sting her, instead they just wept and they clung to her side and they begged to be kept then she unzipped her neck and let the bees out and they danced in the rain and the pounding of clouds and for the first time in her life, she could finally hear i was always here i was always here

the tale of the girl with a bee in her ear

#poem #poetry

❤️

there are days where i hang from the cliff when im sinking and rendered adrift and i pull myself against the center of gravity but i know that slipping is an inevitability it’s only a matter of time, really and then there are days where my feet hit the ground and i muffle my ears so i wont hear the sound of the cracks in the granite that spread where im standing because im scared if i fall again ...there won’t be a landing and today i feel nothing at all i take a bite of the drywall for a taste of the plainness my eyes all bright and glimmering like a mistletoe one day im gonna kiss the present

mistletoe

#poem #poetry

i would not cause harm to a stuffed animal or even the demon that crawls on the wall id like to wrap it in my arms and bandage up the scars and nourish it with gentleness that ive never received and in the midst of all this softness im still privy to believe that im an evil creature twisted with deceit and pain inside my sleeve

stuffed animal

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i m okay, thanks for asking h ead just feels a little fuzzy today a nd im worried that the walls are gonna break d ribble from my guts like some untethered tapestry t rample through the drywall and pull the sickness out from me o rifices demystified and gazed upon like rotting mea ts orry, i dont mean to come off so intensely a ll these moments like a bled cassette tape spooling over endlessly v erging on being perceived with some kind of normality e nter: all the wretched nightmares taunting me with their relief m aybe youll understand if i put it this way :y ou grew into a wretched form and then had to escape s lip into a brand new shape and pray that they cant find a trace e mbody all the therapy in hope that you’ll one day be saved l ay down, close your eyes, realize you’re finally safe f ly home like a distant dream, you think about it everyday

i
had
to
save
myself

#poem #poetry #poetrycommunity

“one day i am going to disappear', i said
but the nights have not yet sunk me in their daze
and the wind has yet to carry me away
my feet still patter through the air
and the tendons have grown stronger
and i hear the whisper like a breeze
shall we dance a little longer?

#poem #poetry

love this one

i severed a piece of broken glass and saw a reflection of my past staring straight back at me at first it seemed pathetic, scary but i spent more time with it and learned to know the weight it carried eventually i came to form an understanding that no part of my hurt reflected on me badly would you blame the ocean for the rising of its waves? and would you cast your judgement on the things that you create? and how can i see such a gentle expression of pain echoing through a hurt and fragile state and believe that it deserves to feel hate? i cant i wont. i think that she deserves love too

a poem about glass and healing

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