bleedspink

[bleedspink]

faded like sunlight

-

i try to remember,
but the pieces splinter
like glass in my hands,
sharp and jagged
and impossible to hold.

there should be something—
a scent, a touch,
the sound of a lullaby,
but it all slips through
like sand in the cracks of my skin.
i close my eyes
and pray for a glimpse,
but nothing comes back.
just echoes.

i used to know how to be small,
how to be safe,
how to be loved—
but it feels like that was someone else,
someone i don’t recognize.
was i ever held?
was there a warmth i could’ve known?
or was i always just
empty hands reaching for a shadow?

the more i dig,
the more the past falls apart—
a picture of me,
but it’s fraying at the corners,
the edges too soft to touch.
the faces blur,
like ink smearing in rain.
i don’t know who they are anymore.

what did my mother’s voice sound like?
i can’t find it.
i’ve been listening for years,
but the silence grows louder.
the space where her love should have been
is just a cold, hollow echo.

i wasn’t supposed to forget,
but the world is smaller now,
the memories thinner,
fading like sunlight on the backs of old photographs—
the kind you find
years too late
and wonder
if they were ever yours.

[bleedspink]

[bleedspink]

silver

-

sure,
you loved me—
but you didn’t like me.

you called me too much,
too wild, too broken,
too loud for your quiet.
you couldn’t hold my anger,
couldn’t swallow my pain.
you groaned like i was a burden,
when all i wanted was to be held—
really held, not just tolerated.

you demanded more intimacy—
how the hell
can i give what i don’t have?
i crawled, begged, spilled myself for you—
on my knees, on my back—
but it was never enough.
all i got were complaints,
grumbles, bitter silence.

you never saw me.
my body burned gold,
but you handed me silver—
cheap, dull, wrong.
you sneered at what i wore,
called it sickening, disgusting—
like my skin was a sin,
like i needed to hide.

you told me to cover up,
then strip down—
pushed me like a toy,
pulled me like a leash.

you broke me—
forced me to my knees,
dragged me to my toes—
but never once
held me like i mattered.

[bleedspink]

starved

-

I don’t know when it started—
this hunger,
quiet, unspoken,
but always gnawing at me,
like a thing I can’t name
but can’t escape.

I need to feel the weight of your eyes on me,
the way you see me,
without needing to ask.
Your attention is light,
and I burn for it,
aching for your gaze
like a plant starving for the sun.

There’s a pull in my chest
whenever you’re near,
and when you look away—
it tightens,
a string pulled too tight,
suffocating me
with its silence,
but I can’t stop tugging,
waiting for you to return.

I want to be the only thing you see,
the only thought that slips through your mind
when the world swallows you whole.
I want your voice to be the last thing I hear
before sleep,
the first thing I wake to.

I don’t know how to explain this need—
this ache,
this thing that claws at my insides,
grows sharper when you’re not looking,
when I’m not enough
just by existing here.

But when you give me your time,
your eyes,
it feels like everything else disappears—
like I’ve found something
I didn’t know I was starving for,
something I’ll never be able to survive without.

[bleedspink]

the taste of ruin

-

it starts slow—
just one step,
then another,
until i’m falling again
without a single thought.

there’s a pull in my chest,
a craving that feels too familiar.
the blood is already there—
in my mouth,
on my hands,
a pulse i know
before i even reach for it.

the taste is sharper this time,
salt and metal,
and it coats me like a secret,
slick and sweet
until i can’t remember
where it ends
and i begin.

it doesn’t hurt yet—
not really—
just a thrum in my veins,
a warmth spreading through me,
like i’ve come home
to the thing i crave most.

and i tell myself it’s the last time,
the last time i let the blood drown me,
but the lie slips from my lips
like it’s always been there,
like it’s always been enough
to make me forget
what i’m doing to myself.

the rush is quiet—
almost soothing,
until it’s not,
until it pulls too tight,
and i can feel the weight of it,
the crash that’s coming,
the ache i’ll wear for days
and pretend i’m used to.

but for now,
the blood is warm in my mouth,
and that’s enough.
for now,
i don’t have to remember
what it feels like to break.

[bleedspink]

ephemeral

-

the flowers sit in the corner,
their petals folded like paper cranes,
too delicate to move but too heavy to fly.
i don’t recall the touch that placed them here—
hands, once warm, now foreign.
they grow without me,
a quiet rebellion against my absence.

some are pale as ghosts,
their edges curling inward,
faint as a whisper caught in windless air.
others stretch tall,
unblinking,
as if the sun had given them a command
they could not refuse.

i don't know how they breathe.
i don’t know if they need air at all.
they are strangers to me,
the green stalks pushing through the dirt,
like silent sentinels at the edge of a place
i can’t find.

one droops,
a petal turning brown,
but I don’t reach for it.
i don't think it matters.
another blooms too quickly,
a rush of color in a room
where time never arrives.

the air smells faintly of something I can’t name,
a forgotten fragrance that lingers,
then dissipates,
like a name I can almost recall
but can never speak aloud.

[bleedspink]

rotting fruit

-

they liked me better
when i didn’t understand.
when my thighs were still growing
and my mouth was too scared to say no.
when innocence clung to my skin
like something they had the right to ruin.

they called me mature for my age
with teeth in their smiles—
like they were doing me a favor
by looking.
by touching.
by naming me beautiful
before i knew what beauty cost.

i was a prize to unwrap
before i even bloomed,
a secret they could keep
so long as i kept quiet.

and i did.
i smiled.
i played the part.
felt wanted.
felt powerful.
felt sick.

and now—
now that i know better,
now that my body is mine,
now that i walk like i own it—
they look away.
they don’t want women who know.
they want girls
who don’t understand
what’s being stolen.

no one lingers now.
no one whistles.
no one tells me i’m worth the rot.

i am too old to be their fantasy,
too sharp,
too loud,
too aware.

but let them choke
on the silence they left behind.
let them ache
for the fruit they bruised,
for the girl they devoured
and left hollow.

she lives in me now.
and she remembers everything.

[bleedspink]

"Leave first before they leave me" mentality because in the end, my inner child is just scared that someone will leave me all over again.

[bleedspink]

yes sex is great but have you ever had someone fall in love with your personality and be so damn in love with you simply just for being you.

[bleedspink]

hands trembling like moths

-

hands trembling like moths—
soft against the glass,
reaching for light,
but there is no light here.

in the quiet,
i gather dust
in the hollow of my chest—
the spaces where things once fit,
now empty.

the things we said,
the promises we wrapped in ribbons—
they fall apart, thread by thread,
too delicate to hold
and too heavy to ignore.

hands trembling like moths—
but there’s no moon to chase,
no wind to guide me home.
just the stillness
of knowing you’re already gone,
and all that’s left is
a pale, broken echo
of something that was never meant to stay.

[bleedspink]

you

-

your voice
spills like sunlight
through the cracks in me,
and i let it—
let it fill every hollow
like it belongs there

i don’t remember life
before the sound of you.
it’s woven in now,
threaded through the days,
like something sacred
i never meant to find.

when you speak,
the world softens.
my chest blooms
with something warm and reckless—
something that says
stay.
please.
always

there’s a shimmer to everything
when you’re near,
like the whole sky
leans closer
just to listen.

i hold your voice
like a drunk holds a memory—
sweet,
slurred,
a little too much,
but never enough

[bleedspink]

You're not just in my heart, you're in my prayers, my drafts, my dreams.

[bleedspink]

sugarcoat

-

the walls hum in soft pink.
powdered sugar light
sticks to my skin
like something saccharine
trying to smother the rot.

plush carpet muffles my footsteps.
every corner is padded—
stuffed with velvet animals
whose glass eyes never blink.
they stare like they know.
like they remember.

the scent of artificial strawberries
hangs heavy in the air,
too sweet, too forced.
it clings to my clothes,
my hair,
my throat.
i choke on the nostalgia.

gold bangles clack against my wrists
when i cover my ears.
sometimes silence is worse
than the screaming was.
sometimes silence is just
another way to listen too hard.

i suck on hard candy
until it slices my tongue.
grin red.
pretend it's cherry.

under my bed—
a shoebox full of secrets.
crayon drawings,
a locket with a stranger’s face,
a dress i don’t remember wearing
but still can’t throw away.

the mirror reflects someone
smaller than she should be.
shoulders curved in like parentheses,
like she’s trying to fold
into the space of someone
who never made it past twelve.

i wrap myself in fleece,
layers and layers,
until the weight quiets the shaking.
call it comfort.
but it’s really armor
stitched in bows and pastel thread.

don’t touch the doorknob.
don’t raise your voice.
don’t ask.
just sit quietly
in the pink glow
and pretend
you’ve always been safe.

[bleedspink]

im so tired of always feeling like i did something wrong and that everyone is so annoyed by me

[bleedspink]

glass lungs

-

i can’t think

i can’t—

think—

there’s something

buzzing

behind

my

eyes

a fly

in a jar

a scream

no mouth

the lights

too bright

too white

too everywhere

skin’s crawling

off of me

off of me

off of me

the floor tilts

but no one notices

why doesn’t anyone—

notice?

voices

voices

voices

colors spill through walls

are the walls laughing?

maybe it’s me

breathe

no.

too loud.

the air is glass

and i’m choking on it

humming in the ceiling

humming in my spine

a live wire

and i—

scream

(inside)

inside

and no one

turns

around.

[bleedspink]

beneath the skin

-

tear me open,
rip back my skin like brittle parchment—
beneath, the rot festers,
a pulse of decay,
a scream too small to escape.

touch it.
the bruises, the bleeding,
the ache lodged between my ribs,
growing sharper when i’m forced
to face the thing inside.

cut me open with your fingers,
peel back the layers—
find the withered heart,
blackened and thorned,
grown from roots where love should have been.

tear me open,
let the blood spill—
maybe then you’ll see
the weight of me,
too heavy to bear,
too cracked to fix.

if you rip me open,
maybe the ache will stop,
the poison will pour out,
and i’ll stop pretending
there’s anything worth saving.

so tear me open.
let the darkness pour from my mouth,
the silent scream nobody hears.
maybe if you peel it all away,
i’ll see myself—
a thing broken,
still refusing to die.

[bleedspink]