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when she dries her eyes and she looks towards heaven and when she is in whole and pure and when she says her prayers

ave maris stella divinitatis cella nautus castitatis radix sanctitatis ave maria ave maris stella

when she dons the robe then she knows she's not dreaming and then she turns to her other side and kisses it goodbye, but not forever

aeternae aeternae claritatis apparuit apparuit quem virgo genuit ave maria ave maris stella ave maris stella ave maris stella

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obsolescence

men don’t love.

they forage.

pick ripe fruit,

leave the pit to rot.

they kiss like hunger,

fuck like conquest,

then wonder why the garden dies

when they move on.

they crave novelty:

a flash of thigh,

a laugh they haven’t heard before.

you become dust

the moment another girl

says his name softer.

they call it instinct,

say they’re wired this way.

but i’ve seen wolves

mate for life.

it’s not nature.

it’s decay.

they say you’ve changed

when you stop bleeding joy.

when your eyes dim

from carrying both of you.

they say it’s not cheating

if it’s just a thought,

just a scroll,

just a whisper.

your name leaves their mouths

only when it’s convenient,

like a coupon

they forgot to use.

you could carve their initials

into your spine,

and they’d still forget

how to spell you.

to men like that,

love is a disposable luxury.

and you...

you’re the empty bottle

they toss out

after the high.

love was a transaction.

and they hated

that the cost was rising.

so now we know:

they never loved us.

they loved the version

that healed them,

fed them,

sucked it up

and said

nothing.

they loved

only when we were soft.

but now that i am steel,

i love me

better

than men ever did.

i’m done being swallowed,

then spat out

for having a bitter aftertaste

when i start telling the truth.

i’m not wilted.

i’m not old.

i’m the lesson

they’ll never learn,

because the mirror

is too cruel

to stare into.

[uqual]

“Be careful what you baptize as love—some poisons taste like honey when you’re starving.”

—wordsintheattic, Anish KC

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Josef Mandl Apparition at a grave, 1916.

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one of you will betray me.

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David Lynch’s photography, assorted.

1-4: Selections from photography collection “Small Stories”

5: Woman Thinking (1)

6: Woman Thinking (2)

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skin

my skin is not a home,

just the caution tape around a wreckage.

a do-not-enter sign stitched in flesh.

it peels in the places i once trusted.

inside, something hums with hunger.

not for love.

but for quiet.

for something real.

i’ve nailed myself inside this body

like a ghost to its last known address.

call it survival.

call it rot with rhythm.

they say "you’re glowing lately,”

but it’s just the static,

the slow burn of unspoken things

curling under the dermis.

do not confuse it for peace.

my face smiles like taxidermy.

my hands offer warmth they don’t hold.

everyone falls in love

with the skin i shed in public.

no one stays for the crawl underneath.

the twitching grief, the bitter choir.

i am not soft.

i am not silence.

i am not what you think i am

just because i haven’t screamed yet.

men see my skin,

and think: sanctuary.

but it’s a storm front.

a red sky.

an omen that learned to walk.

they come bearing matches

and leave surprised

when they’re the ones that burn.

@versesbyaaliyah

@butwhyareyoureyessosad

@picklemafia

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©Philomena Famulok

.

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you reach around my neck and squeeze

angry that i’ve fled your world

resigned, tired, my weary soul screams

a last shriek, my exhausted being cries

god forbid i become your mirror and you hate what you see

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i wish the hand,

the hand of god

would cover the faces,

cover the traces

of lovers lost

i wear the colors,

i wear the colors of babylon

into a world,

dressed as the girl

i know is gone

[uqual]

Scarlet Rot

-

I hold resentment down until it is filtered through my blood,

Making my body ache.

My heart races even at rest,

My stomach full of the words

I just can't seem to scream right,

And the ones that do manage to claw their way out of my throat-

Only whispers.

Only pleas.

Finding only deaf ears,

Returning to force their way back past my lips,

To fester with the rest of them-

I wanted you to give a single solitary fuck

About the way you've changed me,

But you didn't.

And the rot.

It spreads.

x

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I Feel Nothing When You Cry - Thou (2024)

I am a rock in a sea of chaos: determined and strong, unreachable, impervious. Day after day I'm secure within my room. I am impervious. Day after day I'm sealed within my tomb. I am impervious.

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