ashesandraindrops

[ashesandraindrops]

every step you take is lined with the blood of those left behind you, unworthy, a mere shadow of what is demanded in your text, your scripture, your bibles, although you never claimed you would write such a thing, it is those who idolise who put words to page, finding rhythm and structure in following a percieved will, though it's more right than wrong, and regardless, it is what you desevre, what you have earnt, what you are owed - a selfless slave with commandments on their mind, inscribed upon heart, laced on breath the point is - i love you, i worship you, my err is human, your love is divine forgiveness washing over any sin against you - i hold myself to high rule, standard, scripture, words, but you hover un' me, ready to catch me in your arms, hold me falling, bathe me in divinity

[ashesandraindrops]

A huamn being, cracked inside, hurting and I - I see you, in need of loving a girl who has built herself upon the ground, stemming from rage, cocooning herself with her words, her art, her beauty, her cut tongue she knows to reign in, to release at optimal time, darting around piercing wounds in her heart, her body, but not her- -self, for she has rebuilt, she has rebrand the skin she now calls her own, woven in her gosmmer heart, spreading kindness and at peace with the gentle self she creates.

[ashesandraindrops]

i am a virus

 a piece of errant code

 closure codes missing 

executions sparking over and over again repeating, changing, finding ways into others never meant to access

 the antivirus against me is being neurotypical 

but i corrupt the rest as i watch this code execute with no end command

 screaming and crying for someone to put me down someone to 

f i x  m e

 call IT 

beg for them to change 

and watch my lovers succumb

[ashesandraindrops]

your gluttony chokes you, lining your throat

slithering rope down your neck, pulling tight

solid blocks of sin sticking to lining,

you cough, choke, sputter, convulse, clear and

orgasmic bliss, sweet forbidden seizures

your eyes roll back as your electrodes fire

brain stems frying, neural pathways find death

the orgasm is so good but you ask

do you have the brain left to wonder on

your life, your job, your creativity

sins tighten and grey matter necrosises

and the pursuit of pleasure takes over

[ashesandraindrops]

i am a clock wound down and my seconds are ticking, ticking, ticking away. 

[ashesandraindrops]

it is valentines day and i am alone,

my tears pave the way for millions of couples to go before me,

the pieces of my heart are used in rose boquets and corsages,

what is left of my brain is devoured in heart shaped chocolates,

and the blood that runs through my veins has been replaced with loniless and despair

[ashesandraindrops]

i have sat here for hours, throughout my life, pen to paper and mind at work, but through all the words of the english language, i cannot find one suitable enough to even start with to describe you. constellations run just under you flesh, lighting it up with every word you say, breath that passes over those lips, fluttered heartbeat against your ribcage. a bird trapped in a gilded cage; you are a true treasure of the earth, and one day, i hope to be able to set your bloodied wings free and watch you fly. every step you take leaves footprints lined with stardust, and every life you touch sparks with the otherwordly energy that flows through you. i know you are destined for great things, and i will try my best to push into place the gears that are needed for your life to set in motion, for your path to start moving and your inevitable rise to the top begin, and i can only hope that you will allow me to be there for every step of the journey.  you are destined for greatness, and i wish to set you free.

[ashesandraindrops]

waterfalls cascade over rocks endlessly,

eroding until there is nothing left but a smattering of dust

and you are too blind to see what you do to those around you

[ashesandraindrops]

sometimes i wonder if constellations are formed by the scars in our eyes

if your friend has the tail of the big dipper in those tears she always cries and my aunt carries the weight of the southern cross beneath permanently entangled, dragged down with the density of responsibility and glued shut with the bearing of the beauty

and when we die we're released into stardust, it's a common fact, but i an see red and yellows and purples trailing behind those i know, left in the trail of a kind word or the footprint of a good deed and i worry. 

because i see their skin disintegrating before my very eyes and i am afraid. 

for there is no stardust in me, there is no good.

my words leave black holes in which the lights are sucked in to, never returning, never shining again. my touches leave behind black trails of poison and your colours are dimmed, darkened, weighted and dropping to the ground with every touch you stand of me. my breath makes the stars shiver and hide away and your skin curls over itself, cracking and curling up as it dies, sealing the stardust in forever and never letting anyone else see the beauty laying underneath your flesh. 

and i know your beauty will leave, your constellations fading into nothing and your stardust trapped beneath your skin.for all that i poison, i know you will never leave me. 

and for you, i am afraid. 

[ashesandraindrops]

the folder this is in is called "hipster poetry shut up okay" and i feel like that sums up my life

[ashesandraindrops]

i am impure with all that runs through my veins my heart tastes no blood, but is blackened with the inky poison, sin, lies, desire that powers my body so.  your fire is that which purifies me your touch lights the match and your words are the starter lovers who seek no other burning in the night i am a high rise building with one floor and you locked in my windowless basement and you drink the wine(blood) and eat the body(lust) and wait three days for the sun to show lighting this scarred flesh for the first time and creating life out of light. 

[ashesandraindrops]

every story has a beginning and

an end but not in that order and my

climax lays with you under twisted sheets

and torn pillows, love thrumming through stems of

feathers, like the robin trapped und'neath my

ribcage and housed in my breast, storing my

words in its beak and my mind it its brain. 

the wings fluttering und'neath me have you

perplexed and trust me you're not the only

person to bite your tongue until it bleeds. 

questions and knowledge and wonder and life

run through your bones, replacing marrow and

blood and muscle, and soon it is all we

will have left, decomposing into eath

and there is our end. my climax is not

much of one, but i've always been rather

boring, masquerading as int'resting

and luring you in until its too late. 

[ashesandraindrops]

degrees of heat measure themselves in your

perfume, gentle caress around you neck-

turn on me, withering, writhing, wrapping

and twisting, turning, enthralled with a snakes

way o' doing. twist yourself into hemp

and cry for those you have buried in your

past deeds, past thoughts, past actions you wish to

regret but that would be the sin of all,

to miss you choking on your own guilt, wrapped

around you in this noose you call beauty.

this perfume this heat this innocent act

you cloud yourself in fools no one but blind

beggers you twist to your will. your death is

long, brought on by self, promised to be the

spectacle of many, weeping not when

you are gone, but tears of joy and merry

drink to celebrate - drowning in your own

perversion is much the sight, i am told. 

[ashesandraindrops]

and oh,

i have not slept for days, banished to the realm of the waking

my hands are bruised and my wrists broken for i struggle far too much

and my skin lays around me in pieces as the demons underneath devours me

[ashesandraindrops]

and when i die, they say, bury me in a grave atop with flowers so garish that you cannot help but look at them and when these flowers are placed, they say, let every driver turn his head and cause a three car pileup and give me six more souls, one of a mere baby to replace that i never had, to join me in sweet oblivion. and when i die, they say, feed my body through flames to spare my soul and scatter me in the oceans for the fish do surely not have enough to eat. and when i die, they say, miss me and love me so and do not continue with your life anymore.

and when i die, i say, let him be turned into a million stars and hang atop the night sky, so that all shall fall in love with the tiny, burning gas that alights our earth, and divert their eyes from the sun and follow each small part of him around so that everyone knows his beauty. 

and when i die give me not a second thought, but turn your all attentions to him, for he is more beautiful than any mind could ever conjure and it is a life well spent to not live it at all.

[ashesandraindrops]

it’s crippling lows where you can’t get out of bed, you can’t eat and everything tastes like shit anyway, you can't remember what it's like to be happy anymore or even what it's like to love someone. the happiest you've ever been is mere apathy and just when you think you'd kill to get feelings back you spiral into another depression again and you just want to die but you can't because there's still people who love you, who you wish you didn't love. your friends look at you with pity and there's murmurs of concern and whispering behind your back - she's always so tired she's never smiling she doesn't do anything anymore - but you can't bring yourself to care. for them you try to be happy, for them you paint a smile on each morning because god knows they don't need another thing to worry about, not in the midst of their assessments and besides everyone around you is more important than yourself. you just want to diediedie but they still love you and you don't even know how that's possible. you wish there wasn't love. if there wasn't love everything would be so much easier.

[ashesandraindrops]

i talk about stories like we're already in the middle and it's just because i'm too lazy to ever start anything. we always knew that procrastination would be the death of me and now i'm sitting here slowly decomposing under essays not started and half done maths equations. i only ever think about writing when i'm terrified of losing. the ability to prove my existence is useless in what we face and we both know that. you're watching my hand crumble before it was ever able to stain your skin and the pieces you're trying to catch flash error codes, incompatible with superior technology, before falling to the ground and shattering. my brain is held together with duct tape and my heart is of inferior quality, frequently snapping and leaving someone else to gather the pieces. whoever said it's always darkest before the dawn got it wrong, it's always the best before we fall. and here you are picking up the pieces once again and i wish my lips worked enough just to force out a simple apology.