#inkskinned

[wordslaver]

Have you ever woke up feeling like your skin have been screaming from how much you've missed someone

[feytouched]

2023.08.11. new poem (?)

[fantodsdhrit]

fell asleep your cigarette insomnia charred pillows stannic room flames

to rākshasas shiva granted then deprived

your psychedelic hatred for everything vivid woke up and met itself

an official visualizer song natraja dashboard 

i realised i needed you more than hungry ghost realm

i needed you more than needs' need

the third eye was treacherously unappetizing don't stare at cement dust

they voyage on positive cruelty vibes

you said whatever was to come would now be i waited for you to lie still

so i could be intimately hallway alone

my head as antithesis of shiva's matted hair

my head without strength you assay

if you refuse to perish as a human become a rākshasa

there's a futility to life that only life assumes

like gulmohars spewing leaves icterine

or a kite carrying away furryball squirrel

after that silver fire your room spoke to you but you were half in wyoming

[preraphaelitepoetess]

[a poem] DEC. 23rd - awaking to an overcast on a dim december day.

[sapphowhispers]

If my lips could speak it I think it would end us both for you are not ready for the warmth (you were raised in the cold, learned to be a stone before you deemed yourself a coal, and you find every fire a menace) and I've been burning for so long that I might just turn to ashes, should I let you know how I've been sitting, weeping, wilting ever so slowly

People see what they believe; you, made of honey guarded by wasps, me, made of marble frozen in time

But don't they see it? How I carved my heart to keep you safe? How I'd stand in front of any winds that want to blow you away? Don't you see it? Do these lips have to move? Must this throat ache before you see that I am waiting, mouth open for you to stick to me, sweet and golden?

I've been an ancient mountain waiting for the spring and you have been the snow ready to melt and run through me

a flame reborn (lan zhan's monologue)

[freyaswriting]

I am a beautiful gilt sword refusing to be pulled from the stone like a fucking idiot. I am willing to say something so egregiously dumb that I naturally decompose. And if I am wrong you can cremate me in a honey glaze. You can’t stop me, cringe is out, it’s earnest now. I’m dancing on the fucking table, I’m gonna run down hill and get hit by a bike! I’m going to throw out accidentally covering up how I feel and eat a big praise sandwich until I am full and completely round like those ancient German hogs.

I am enjoying myself. I like mahogany and dogs in jumpers. the thought of logging wood, and primary colours. I will roll up a pair of knickers so they look like a croissant, wear cheap black lipstick and send smoke signals for everyone to come to my party. I will let myself be as excited as the shops on Christmas eve, relish everything that is good and pointless.

And if I eat shit then so be it.

And If I Eat Shit Then So Be It by me, first published on fgrlsclub

[ineedibuprofen]

cool about it, boygenius // i don't want to hear any good news or bad news, elisa gabbert // ana mendieta // this post, @inkskinned // drowning sailor, jack nichols // you are jeff, richard siken // everything i wanted, billie eilish

[haveyoureadthispoem-poll]

"come find me where the sun / and the sky know each other: i’ll / meet you on the edge and we’ll / fly together"

Read it here | @inkskinned | @tomonkey4

Reblog for a larger sample size!

[the-sum-of-many-poets]

folkstone

where art blooms

a wet dog

from a highways bus stop

so does hope

ad was sent as an artifact to siphon

in its fecundity

speaks a fusillade of mandolines

chopping forty-two different ways

ad infinitum

the unfulfilled decision is gaining weight

bring back lady bird johnson’s

anti-billboard campaign

in a stomping war over street art

ad exits

stacked like a ziggurat defeated

post regicide

macbeth like

scrubs the infomercial from its hands

enough cologne

&

anti-aging cream from the shark’s anus

tomorrow’s landfill never wrote a letter

wish you were here

take a deep breath

of visual fresh air

just a wee trapdoor of sky

& imagine us

carrying a crayon that beautifies

our new cave walls

©️david sichler

[starsmattersinpoetry]

Ive been seeking leftover parts of you in other people's bed, but i guess thats the way life goes when you refuse to count your last cigarettes as blessings.

Ive been digging holes in my backyard and then forgetting what i was meant to bury in the first place, and the lemon tree has been using the soil as a starting point.

This isnt your fault because if it was id have to admit you were ever real in the first place, but it isnt my fault either because i dont want it to be. 

When you see me next tell me what you thought about when you first tasted the blood you licked from my wounds.

-if i couldn’t find your reflection in the mirror i’d draw it in

[letteriwillneversend]

when i die, i will become a sunset.

i know some people say their loved ones live on in sunrises, those early morning miracles that start your day with grace. but that will not be me. i will paint a sunset - hushed and streaky and moody. it will be soft and complex at the same time. it will somehow be more beautiful than you expect it to be but also not as good as what you imagine. it will welcome my loved ones home at the end of their days, or watch for them as night takes the place of day. no matter where they are: on a rooftop, in their car, sitting in an office in some high rise, or at home in a kitchen with a small window - i will come in to take a peek. when they are tired and weary, the tendrils of my fading sunset will reach out like a soft hand on your shoulder, soft strokes with no aim other than to sooth.

and eventually the deep blues will begin to bleed in. the stars will begin to make themselves apparent, first in small numbers, and then all at once. my sunset will stay just long enough to see them, to greet them, before i must go. before i leave, i will kiss my loved ones on the forehead. i will smile at them like i cannot bring myself to say goodbye, because i can’t. i was strong enough to love but not enough to stay, and that is something i will be be too cowardly to confess in any lifetime. so i will leave it unsaid.

i will leave them with the knowledge that at the end of everyday, short or long, good or bad, memorable or mundane…

there will be a sunset.

[wordslaver]

Though I never said much, growing apart affected me something like a death. I still keep your secrets safe, in case you'd like to grow back.

[feytouched]

gravedigging; first published in Crow & Cross Keys (september, 2022)

[fantodsdhrit]

you nod to everything of smooching nothing not even cosmic staircase

talkative outfit of blessed blooming day

st thomas hoists your brother from dead

that was then now cornfields are holy war blindfolds

take in that other force dilute yourself

resistance is only when you mountain

resistance is only flightless flight people meet at wagah border every year

naan with beef kebabs fancy some

most sacred passions lay university aflame 

black snow and your hermetic lips 

a christmas loneliness haunts dum conderet urbem after coal mines

all apostles live in that magenta tower

croon disused airport speeches et al

during riots thigh bruises of an ordinary kind claque foists authority

tell me there are utopias in expiry stars 

auctioned to narcose highest bidders

paid in emotion bubbles that spurn to ever pop like moi

[girlbruised]

— m.d.g // desiderium

[holdinbacksecrets]