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[foolorn-blog]

Last night I stood in the center of an empty street

and begged for the sky to take me back

I am so disconnected from my mother star

and through tears I wondered why she has forsaken me

here

fastened me to this wretched construct 

of bones and blood and hair

and watched me bleed 

through countless moments of sadness

eventually those moments just

add up

and the bill has to have come due

mother

on the day when we meet

I will be angry

and happy

and sad

and maybe on acid

and I will have so many stories

to tell you

about the people I met

and the stars they came from

and that curious skin

that you trapped me in

won’t feel so tight any more

I will have stretched it out

thin like rice paper

thin enough to tear through

like a gift

this gift you gave to me

is strange

and confusing

and painful

and beautiful

how will I tell you when I get there?

How will I thank you

for all of the things you let me experience

for all of the things that broke my heart

before I got to be whole.

[foolorn-blog]

Do you remember

when you promised this wouldn’t happen?

Did you say that to pacify me,

or to pacify yourself?

[foolorn-blog]

I was tired of being torn apart by strangers

disguised as lovers

so I stopped

“hand me the blade”

and I’ll show you

exactly how to butcher a girl.

[foolorn-blog]

there is no mercy in the auger of your words did you know we would be moon dogs on the shoulders of Selene the iron of my blood poisoned with tenderness even when we shone gold as halos a dim echo of stars I knew we would burn down the sky

[foolorn-blog]

I've had my heart broken before and felt the aftershock

And it's strange

You don't feel the same

When I bump into old lovers it's electric with anxiety, my body runs cold

But you...

You feel like raw ache. You feel like a bruise. Like bleeding.

[foolorn-blog]

This bee wanted to go home with me, he wouldn’t leave my bouquet

[foolorn-blog]

10 steps in self-destruction, or, alternately; How I let this shit fucking happen. Again.

One;

When I met you, you neglected to tell me that you had the power to summon earthquakes

your words 

the fissure that ruptured beneath my feet and sent me down to dance with gravity

“I need to be alone”

That death sentence waited at the bottom of a ravine composed of all of the words I couldn’t say

Because none of them would soften the impact

I wanted to scream

“Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away?”

But instead I hit the earth just hard enough to send the futility six feet deep

and the question little more than a voiceless tombstone

I’ve always treated heartbreak like a best friend

because we are always bumping into each other

hands interlocked in the ten steps it takes to dive over an edge

Two;

I’m familiar with edges

I thought I would recognize the one you used to get under my skin

I have thick skin

but it bleeds like blotter paper

I read somewhere once

that at one time people used bloodletting to cure themselves from diseases

but you’ve been spilling out of me for days now 

and I can’t

lose anymore

How many times do I have to flay myself before someone takes

the scalpel out of my hand

How many veins do I have to knot around my neck

before you realize that my heart is a noose that won’t allow me to breathe

Three;

When I was a little girl

I used to tell myself that the flowers I couldn’t plant at home

I could deposit in gardens I shared with other people

My parents never told me I could raise those flowers within myself

Please look at me

Pull away my petals and I am the last one you hope to reach

“she loves me”

you may have never brought me flowers

but that’s okay because not all graves get to see bouquets

my love for you died before i knew what it was

and I don’t think I could stand on that freshly turned earth

without baptizing it all

with the ocean you’re tearing out of me

Four;

I’ve taken

six baths

since you stopped talking to me

And I’ve realized I’m never going to be clean

I look at my skin and all I can see is a flesh-bound mausoleum

Every man who touches me finds ghosts in the crypts of my pores 

and not one of them has had the courage to love a girl who is haunted

My breast is a godless cathedral that howls with the disconnected

phantoms of every ‘I love you’ that has ever stepped inside

I lit candles in my body to try to make myself glow

but I’ve only burned myself to the ground

again

Tell me how to resurrect the dead with the ashes

Five;

Why is it that people are so careless with their words?

I’ve spent the entirety of my life 

always

struggling to choose them carefully

because some syllables are like syrup

but others are like strychnine

Tell me which one you had under your tongue when you kissed me

I don’t want to believe that I’m rotting

but my insides have spoiled

and I can’t differentiate between a stomach sick on poisons

or sweets

now when I open my mouth the only thing I can taste is my own

disappointment

I can’t get the goodbye off of my lips

but you walked away with the best part of me between your teeth

Six;

Who got the best part of you?

How many girls did it take to break you to the point where

the only way you know to survive is to replace the pieces

with the ones you take from other people

I don’t regret giving myself to you

But the problem with allowing people to take what they need

is that sometimes it’s everything

and everything isn’t always enough

I want to be

enough

You never understood what I meant but maybe that was because broken bodies don’t take transplants

and there’s no such thing

as a person who can love with only half a heart

Seven;

I had a friend tell me that my softness had volatility to it

That on my head I wore horns of blue velvet

and I want nothing more

than to embody what that compliment was

So that maybe the next time someone steps into my life

they might know that they won’t

hurt me and walk away unscathed

My love

has the power to move mountains

But now I only want to see them fall

How many centuries did it take to raise the Appalachians

Because they are nothing in comparison to the alps you’ve put up between us

Eight;

I still don’t know which part of what you said was the lie

My friends tell me that I am so good

at agonizing over things that I can’t change

And the one thing I have always wanted to change was myself

why did you tell me I was special if I was so easy to throw away?

Which limb did you have to lop off to free yourself from the vice that kept you with me?

Because I’m still trying to identify which of my wrists is still fastened in the snares of what you said

I could free myself if I had the courage to kill the part of me that still cares about you

how many of us are still walking around baring the scars of too many close escapes

how many of your wounds could I count if you lay yourself bare

I’m sorry that I backed you into a corner

I should have known better having already felt the bite of an injured animal

Nine;

They say every demon wants it’s share of flesh

but I have given pound after pound

and filled the bellies of my devils with everything I have to offer

And they’ve never gotten off my back

My spine is perpetually bent carrying the weight of gorged failures

that have never once given me what I wanted

but once you sell your soul for love

there isn’t ever any turning back

I always hoped my path would intertwine with someone like you

but now our roads are diverging and I don’t want to be misery’s company

anymore

I am a slave to my sins

and hell isn’t a place it’s mindset

Do I really have to let you go for you to see that?

Ten;

If you have to go

Please be well

Please promise me 

that if this small

beautiful thing had to die before it could ever begin

it might somehow act as a catalyst for your happiness to grow where once you had thought the fields were barren

I have always felt more like a lily pad than a woman

something men jump to and from before they reach what is it that they really want

I wanted you

More than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life

and if I can’t have you

I hope that you can at least have happiness

because maybe then I can believe I will eventually have it too.

[foolorn-blog]

All my life I've been putting out brush fires in my heart

And I keep inviting match sticks inside.  // i.c.

[foolorn-blog]

You don’t just get to hurt me and walk away

You don’t get the benefit of an easy way out 

when you leave a trail of bloody footprints in your wake 

I’m going to fucking follow you

I’m going to hunt you down 

the way jackals track wounded animals

I’m going to find you

and I’m going to take a lump of flesh

sizable enough to replace what you fucking gouged from me.

[foolorn-blog]

…Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final…

Rainer Maria Rilke, Go to the Limits of Your Longing (via conceptvals)

[foolorn-blog]

It’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful.

F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Beautiful and Damned (via sunsetquotes)

[foolorn-blog]

You haven't witnessed

Black magicks

Until the woman you wound

Pulls her spoiled heart from her chest

And leaves it in your hands

When it can do her no further service

You will hold it like tar between your fingers

And watch as her body fills the hole

With shadow

And she grows so ferociously

Taking up space

A sullen nightshade twining vines around your wrists

And her tongue is all poison

And her body

Once soft now sunken and cold

An echo of her anger flourishing in shades of gray and red

Her beauty marred with deceit

Her mouth a cage of teeth biting words she can't articulate

Because there is no language

That can sufficiently express

The pestilence in her blood

Shrieking your name through the cavern of every vein

You don't know magicks

But you will

When her face hardens at the sound of your voice

And where once she had been a song

Now a spell

A curse

A pox

Less like sunshine and more like thunderstorms

And she will call for the rain to wash you away.

[foolorn-blog]

“how old were you

when you cracked down on the hardwood

and spilled yourself into the foyer

just another mistake to be stepped over,

no one is going to clean you up

the money has run dry and you

are seeping into the supposed wealth-

if we keep the hardwood shiny, uncracked

maybe the neighbors won’t know

what happened last spring when our minds

all thawed out back,

the aging became apparent,

and everyone reminded you that a girl

isnt worth a thing broken open, open”

-southern tradition laid bare || O.L.

[foolorn-blog]

Free

I sit in the heart of a flower to weep

soothe be my tears to root, to sleep;

cast off all blues to the changing wind

or carried away on a butterfly’s wing;

so soon pray I emerge as a yellow bird

to fly away without a fleeting word.

[foolorn-blog]

Please don't go.

I promised myself I wouldn't do this to myself again.

Don't destroy me. Don't let me destroy myself.

Please please don't be one of them. Don't be one of them.

[foolorn-blog]

How can one half of me be so uncertain and afraid

one half of me would rather die

because she is so in love with the world

and that same world is inconceivably large

and it’s crushing her

it’s squeezing the blood from her bones

the way people try to pull water from rocks

and the other half

is angry

steel and fire and reasoning

knowing that the world is inconceivably large

and wanting to crush instead of being crushed

one half wants to hold love like butterfly

the other wants to bury it in a lye-filled hole

somewhere far away

where it can’t hurt either of the halves

because as much as the romantic in me embraces it

the logician and the cynic can see 

that the romantic can’t handle it when it goes bad

and it almost always goes bad

so to save the whole

she wants to destroy the threat to the weaker half

but she can’t either

because she’s already equally infected

and her strengths are only external

and the romantics strengths

although internal

were never built to dismantle love

only to nurture

so maybe this is where one of the halves needs to die.

[foolorn-blog]

You are my restless voice at 3 am

Crying over things I can’t control

the feeble punchline of a joke attraction

My heart is a carved clean engine

with a lot of empty rooms

I want nothing more than to grow gardens there

but each chamber is lightless and cold

because I keep emptying it out

at 3 am.