the instruction manual to cleaning the body I:More Like This
Ask me how I get bloodstains out of the tub.
The secret ingredient is: you wash her hair first. It goes down the drain and the maroon wilts and swirls like a streaming river. The beauty of it is you get to bathe in red, then. The beauty of it is: you cleaned her. It rinses the dread and it’s washed anything despicable her skin has carried. That she’s carried.
She’s beautiful again, rolling in jewels.
Ask me how to sterilize it, how to wash the blood from existence.
Two gallons of Hydrogen Peroxide. Carbona Stain Devils. Enzyme solvent. You use a fogger to stiffen it all. Baking soda and vinegar. You buy a bouquet of roses.
Ask me how I catch her first. Ask me when I name her Abigail.
Her body is a canvas. Her body is an illustrious canvas to paint, to conquer. I enhance it. You want to make it as mesmerizing as possible. Ask me how.
You cut off the weak parts.
Devious Journal Entrythese days I only write when my heart is breaking.More Like This
this was one of the shittiest weeks of my life. this entire year rivals my 16th year in terms of absolute, life-destroying shittiness. everything is awful. everything hurts.
I have learned this week how to curl around a man while he tells me
about the first time he tried to kill himself. he was six.
the trucks drove along the highway, he said, I watched them through
the bus window on the way to school. I went out there one morning
& laid down. I waited for hours.
but they didn't come for me, so I got up and went home.
how broken can I be before I shouldn't be here at all?
you shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here,
& you should've left a long time ago.
& he didn't say, but I know he meant:
did he know? did he think I was broken? was I a disappointment to him
my entire life?
he's gone, he's gone, he's gone.
(in)visiblebars hold until the clock strikes midnight.More Like This
the lion released after a year’s starvation,
wild-eyed search for the weakest prey.
the old ones.
the lion’s sick with a darkness that stays
inside and around.
the night lasts as long as the lion lingers,
night like his cloak, night like his choking collar.
night like the last night the lion ran you circles
around the house
the lights came
the lights left
and you were left feeling light-headed,
afraid of your own skin. your own blood and bones.
the lion never really left. the bars open. the feast continues.
post.Even now, I'm stitched together with every one I've ever loved like the glue that bonds the stamp to the envelope, eternally forever even when the adventure ends, even when the letter's gone, sent.More Like This
It's different in dreams now, the faces I meet are never the ones I want to see, the dead are never waiting there for me & I can't remember your face, just a long distant voice over the phone saying “hi”
Hi hi hi, some lives feel like an eternity, some loves continue to haunt me, to some I'd love to say I’m sorry, but to others, fuck you, you weren't worth the tears, stay the fuck out of my dreams.
Devious Journal Entry1. i had my first lucid dream.More Like This
the beginning of it felt like
every inch of me was nailed
to my bed and i could see and move my eyes
but i could not move or speak.
it was terrifying.
when my consciousness shifted,
i was being propelled down a highway
at fast-forward speed and i immediately
realized i was dreaming and that i could
be anywhere i wanted to.
it was not a thought. it was not even a question
my subconscious wanted to run straight
there were some difficulties- i had
to travel to another dimension,
and when i got there it was all black
and i was made of dying coals.
i think i went to hell,
i think i died trying
to find my way
back to you.
2. i had my second lucid dream.
the first was a fluke- instead i
wanted to go to the future, to go
where i would be happiest
instead of trying to go back.
it was a beige room with no decoration
and a mattress and big windows with
endless light- and a naked man. i was startled,
and he was startled, and we bo
no need to be hostilehome tongue dictatesMore Like This
that i speak of you
as if i leashed
the pain you caused
and walk it like a dog,
as if you still pin
me to beds the way i
pinned my suicide note
to my bedroom wall.
i no longer
wear you among
i no longer
taste acid when i
speak your name.
home tongue dictates
that i speak of you
because i hold your
glass jaw to the curb
with a lead foot -
the power you think
you have over me drowns
in the power i know i have
swampi remember you in the smallest of dusksMore Like This
stuck in pronunciation,
by the smallest of lisps
by the greatest of puddles
& forever you stand
scattered amongst cells
in the smallest of memories
in the greatest oblivion
.i'm afraidMore Like This
to be left on my own
with myself. she makes me
do things i don't want to do
(makes me tread on thin ice while looking at you)