sewers-and-fishnets

[sewers-and-fishnets]

Lantern fly

[sewers-and-fishnets]

my partner said something that kinda rocked my world

[sewers-and-fishnets]

we'll talk again, soon, maybe

she runs against open green fields before coming to the edge and gently yields to the deep blue depths of the sea before her the clinical operation she refuses to occur

i found myself in the deepest depths in my mind, i endure a thousand deaths trudging through the sludge i can't go on your face will become another bygone

i am willing and completely unable as she hooks me up to the jumper cable i seize and i fry, and it's all for you we can hope for another breakthrough

she found herself in a white frigid desert another harsh truth that she can't subvert as she stares up at the wide open sky and whispers to herself goodbye

[sewers-and-fishnets]

masquerade

the soul, now cared for, must choose its face the one fragile mask that'll serve for this place till a tumble down the mirrored staircase leaves a sad, shattered heap lying broke at the base.

why does it do this, why does it dance? why does it try to make gold out of glass? why does it demand spring's love in the fall? o, why was it cursed to ever love at all?

a tragedy, the ribbons it weaved when it spinned a sorrow, the glow that now fades from its skin a wailing, as time sees its rainbow grow thin a screaming, that it should have just looked within o, you poor beauty, if you'd just looked within.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

[sewers-and-fishnets]

a feeling i don't know

is love in the song of the sparrow or the rings of saturn or the bottom of the abyss? it must be as the word leaves your mouth, it is a feeling i don't know. is love in the chill of space or the ultraviolet airwaves or the shape of the dark? it must be as the light leaves our eyes, it is a feeling i don't know.

but god, i would sing with the sparrow i would breach the abyss i would brave the chill of space i would surf the ultraviolet airwaves i must because i would do anything to recapture the feeling i don't know.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

raw

there's holes and notches and slices in the lace of the most expensive gowns and a pile of ragged, dead shavings around the most beautiful furniture and firm, heavy cuts through the most delicious cakes and pulverized, coarse dust surrounding the most gorgeous of statues and raw, toxic waste spewing from the richest of companies and torn, bloodied prey feeding the most majestic of creatures

and i wonder what i too must endure to become something someone would want.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

mirage

how i caught myself a-hoping, as the sunlight touched my wall how i caught myself a-looking, at a future, strong and tall how i caught myself a-feeling, when my heart unfurled a-wide when i caught myself a-lying, it was all just swept aside.

how i felt the wind a-brushing soothing heated, crying cheeks how i felt the rain a-washing blemishes that made me weak how i felt the sun a-rising on a world so bright and bold when i felt myself a-lying, it all shattered in the cold.

how i begged the gods uncaring, how i pleaded for the sparing of the whip and of the blade even then, i was unmade how i pounded down my fists how i screamed for more than this to a fate that couldn't see the tiny rat it cursed to be.

how i found my heart a-beating as the icy truth set in how i found my eyes a-rolling upwards, cursing His foul whims how i found the dark a-setting in, choking out my sight when i found i was a-lying, so began the endless night.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

art

your body is a carving, the kind that hangs on walls my body is a mangled mess that isn't good at all. your body is a canvas, painted with heavenly gold my body is a lifeless, limp cadaver growing cold. your body is a statue, chiseled perfect every angle my body is a drunken pot with parts that sag and dangle. your body is a testament to loving every part my body is the reason i should never have tried art.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

I'm Sure I'm Sure

I'm sure I'm sure of nothing

Excepting of the fact

I needn't the permission

In never coming back

I'm sure I'm sure I kissed her

And swallowed vile truth

For love that's living with her

Should exit with the puke

I'm sure I'm sure she hates it

The vomit on her dress

But letting go is all I know

Of trying to express

I'm sure I'm sure It's pointless

The trying to keep down

Picture frames and what remains

Once heaved into the ground

I'm sure I'm sure I'm leaving

As soon as I can purge

Another line beset with rhyme

While vomiting the words

[sewers-and-fishnets]

bigfoot

never known, hardly seen, a smeared pixel between skeleton trees i stumble and stomp through the underbrush on two lumbering legs, trying to be a bit more human. but like every beast i am boorish, and stupid, and a dried and thin mistake cracks beneath my clumsy cryptid claws. reverting to all fours, with practiced fear i bolt, never looking back to see if you've done the same. the papers will only care about how tall i was and the tv will only care about the shriek of my roar-scream and the scientists will only care about how fast i galloped away, but i hope that you will only care about how i stopped hiding in the dead thickets, just this once, just for you.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

capillaries

hello, bruises. you should know that someone likes us now. i know, i know, this is just like before and the times before that. but really, this one is different.

you're still sore, and i get that. still bleeding, and i understand. only we two really know how bad it is under the skin. but today, we don't have to hide behind our sleeves and makeup.

someone touched us gently, and it didn't hurt. someone plumbed our depths, and we didn't even cry. someone saw our scars and looked up into our eyes.

even if the pain stays, even if it still blooms purple come nightfall, something else bloomed too a more vibrant color than any red or blue or black with which you might curse me.

so goodbye, bruises. maybe you’ll never be beautiful, but maybe, just maybe, you will be the last.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

please

please, gods. i never ask for much. let my hunched shadow block not the sun, let my streaming tears salt not the earth, let my rambling heart trample not the seedling.

please, gods. you have given me nothing else. it is my own fingers which raked this dirt. it is my own brow which bears the heat. it is my own soul which breaks from failure.

please, gods. i beg, as many dead before me. let me have this, if even for a single moment. let me shy us away from your omni-present eyes. let me stand upstream during your next wanton smiting.

please, gods. for those of us not timeless, it has been too long. may these winds carry blessed rains to her soil may these wishes fortify her roots and may this be the flower that lives.

please, gods. please, gods. please.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

a no name, no self, no-body.

i wander the world, lost, shedding my skin.

how many more layers am i going to uncover?

i feel like a divine entity undercover.

in my sense of self, there is no constant.

i am a paradox, of human life a participant.

i shed my skin every once in a while,

usually it happens when i feel vile.

i wish i had a way of letting people refer to me, but without a name, i think i feel more free.

therefore, here i stand. undefined, unlimited.

never once long-term committed.

maybe one day i'll get to my core,

but until then, i will continue to shed some more.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

sisyphus

i was given hands, that were given fingers, to grasp for understanding. i was given feet, that were given toes, to move with meaning. i was given a body, that was given a heart to live with purpose. then i was given a push,

and was given nothing more.

(paint/poem: @sewers-and-fishnets)

[sewers-and-fishnets]

wolf

rabbit of the woods, pure and soft your thighs a spring of beauty your belly so taut and firm

how i envy the berries that meet your lips and the vines beneath your paws and the flowers that brush your fur

your very presence pierces the canopy love, light to all around leaving sprouts of hope in your wake

but woe, that i were born a hound meant to hunt, and howl, and tear and destroy all that you are

woe, that your tender shoulders so pleasantly scented are meant to be my meal

woe, that nature envelops us and despite my sharpened jaws cannot be fought

rabbit of the woods, tiny and clean briskly hop downwind with longing as our hunter's moon.

[sewers-and-fishnets]

o, my fire

o, my fire burn away the worst of me warm the parts nobody sees o, my fire o, my fire. o, my flame warp the wind the way we'd like cast a draft that gives me flight o, my flame o, my flame. o, my blaze light the torch along the road shield us when the cold wind blows o, my blaze o, my blaze. although you've saved my life so much there's a pained blessing to your touch the world's cruelest joke, it drives me mad that i could never hold your hand.