stolenhead

[stolenhead]

you are the sun in my eyes

you fade from the horizon

of my skin, a minor injury

you buzz in my lungs

like artifact, from trembling

you are a green smear

across the stars breathing

on the god sighted side

of everything eclipsed

[stolenhead]

Antichrist (2009) Lars von Trier

I want you... to melt into the green.

[stolenhead]

exiled___

[stolenhead]

I remember watching the phone ring. Your dad's name in pixels, black on green. I sat in the silence after, the same as before. It rang again. Stopped. Rang and rang and rang. I walked to the lake. Let the sugar sand burn my feet. Let the sand spurs bite. Sat in the sun listening to bug song, my alligator skin blistering. Thinking of the pain of it, thick and green as the swamp i crawled out of. Doesn't seem so hot in my bedroom after that. Leave the voicemsil blinking red like a scream. Red like your bitten, tear strung cheek. In my fevered sun-sick dreams, I kiss you. In waking I am still sick but not sorry. I would kiss your mouth again if it was quieter. I don't like to talk. I only want to feel the weight of your bones, not your radioactive heart. I am burnt enough all on my own.

[stolenhead]

overconfidence

scars my knees and elbows but

it is good to fall

[stolenhead]

heat chased us underground

it is a mole-blind life

cool in the foreshadowing

of a nuclear summer

ending

the sun laughs

its red smile

inverted and buoyant

[stolenhead]

Foveabathra venusta by David Fischer

[stolenhead]

[stolenhead]

braiding the quiet

of 5 am into my hair

and there it is

like a wave of nausea

woven over

instead of under

I rest my shoulders

and start again

with forgiveness

slower while

everything else waits

[stolenhead]

Prompt: soft like sunset

gentle abandonment

of light

a promise

of silence and silver

to ease the leaving

the unfeeling

god of stars

does not weep

does not grow dark

.

[stolenhead]

Re: Getting to know the poet, as requested by @reinventing-wednesday (thank you for the tag, we have crocheting and cooking in common. Well. I haven't crocheted anything in years but I have made some very large hats in the past.)

I'm super boring and don't have favorites of things so this is a challenge for me haha for those ice breaker things in college i would always say "i like music" like, hello, i have a pulse i guess [1]

I'm pretty active. I do a lot of running and weightlifting (and yoga and meditation so I don't destroy my joints/life.) It takes up much h of my free time so I must mention it [2]

I hate running but love food so [3]

I went through a (long) phase during which I refused to watch American television, so I'm like 10 or 15 years behind on the big shows. Jk we watched blood of the dragon or whatever it's called [4]

I know I'm a hater, but that's okay I'm only hurting me. [5]

So, we're watching the walking dead and there's no. way. the governor beats merl. Big eye roll. [6]

The only thing I miss about the south is food truck mangonadas. Can't find anything even close in the midwest unless I make it myself. [7]

I cohabitate with a man and two beasts. The beasts are cats. Or so they claim. [8]

I'm California sober but i never been to California. [9]

I prefer a window seat until i have to pee. [10]

That was really like 30 facts.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tag others, but not knowing never stopped me before. No pressure. @poppiesandpromises @rineedagger @critical-reflex @purplemonkeysexgod69 @zealouswinds @poeticdevotion

[stolenhead]

Sarah Gillespie

Blackbird

[stolenhead]

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Yoshitaka Amano

[stolenhead]

[stolenhead]

[stolenhead]

day 16...

his tears are no longer

drought stricken and spotted with fish skeletons— spine twist and the heavy task of waking. these mornings are awash with the ponderousness of petrichor and bloodshot eyes. a cul-de-sac of unused emotion, a knife cut canvas and sugar crumbs along the slick cherrywood of a dining room table. a stopped bathtub, a wolf's howl over an expanse of treetops. breath caught and stored within the earth's crust.

-kab

[stolenhead]

Waking from

post traumatic

gunpowder dreams

like .22 recoil

in sapling arms

oak now

ash fed

and algead cypress

dressed in Spanish moss

and smelling of rot

sweating

like I did all summer

in 2004

bleeding in my

stolen hoodie

plastered

fingers itching

and growing slender

── 'fx"