Here is a girl who's
Galaxy mind and twisted thoughts
Are too BIG for her skull,
(They're too busy shovingAgainsteachother
To make sense)
So, she said, she'll fly away,
S t r e e e t c h out to feel the world
In her hands but~
She can't pull her fingers away
from the pulse, always ticking
Tick
Tock
Tick tock, tick tock ...
.... And stop.
She's a grenade; coiled spring tight
While her briar heart beats hard
Against a cold white cage;
Made of Brittle bones
and her small, cluttered frame
Under gossamer wings
That will die with the sun
She says she can feel them,
The wings on her back
That she was never given
Featured
Literature
Galaxy mind
XxFlameFrost101xX XxFlameFrost101xX
15
17
Literature
Watercolor Dreams
Flimsy watercolor dreams that
can be erased with a few teardrops
cannot make you feel alive,
but my chest was so hollow that
even a dying star was enough
to set my eyes alight
can be erased with a few teardrops
cannot make you feel alive,
but my chest was so hollow that
even a dying star was enough
to set my eyes alight
WindFragments WindFragments
24
11
Literature
She drinks her whiskey straight
She drinks her whiskey straight
like her daddy did—it makes
her feel close to him.
He left during the winter.
She sits where he used to
every afternoon,
watching the setting sun
bring cold days to their end.
Blanket bunched
around her shoulders,
she drowns herself,
the silence carrying
her daddy’s voice.
like her daddy did—it makes
her feel close to him.
He left during the winter.
She sits where he used to
every afternoon,
watching the setting sun
bring cold days to their end.
Blanket bunched
around her shoulders,
she drowns herself,
the silence carrying
her daddy’s voice.
a-perpetual-hiraeth a-perpetual-hiraeth
23
16
Literature
cicatrix
i trace the raised highways on his back
with seven ballpoint pens,
one for each pigment in a rainbow,
and tell him in depth how beautiful
he is.
his glance is paired with twisted lips
and white-knuckled hands clutching
his shirt-
how can i believe that when all you do
is find a way to color in
every goddamn imperfection?
with seven ballpoint pens,
one for each pigment in a rainbow,
and tell him in depth how beautiful
he is.
his glance is paired with twisted lips
and white-knuckled hands clutching
his shirt-
how can i believe that when all you do
is find a way to color in
every goddamn imperfection?
StarlightComet StarlightComet
49
17
Literature
beer bottle blue (14/30)
-- choking on gasoline, choking on a mutualistic
symbiosis that neither of us ever agreed to
all it takes is a single spark
that flashes between our staticked eyes
and i dream of platonic love
and you spill nail polish on your pillow,
scarlet, cracking as it dries;
night after night we play Pygmalion and Galatea
shaping each other into a more beautiful falsity
than love --
symbiosis that neither of us ever agreed to
all it takes is a single spark
that flashes between our staticked eyes
and i dream of platonic love
and you spill nail polish on your pillow,
scarlet, cracking as it dries;
night after night we play Pygmalion and Galatea
shaping each other into a more beautiful falsity
than love --
scripted-silence scripted-silence
15
2
Literature
day 1: negation.
I am not your damsel in distress.
My skin is no longer the milky white alabaster of a flawlessly sculpted statue,
too afraid to jump out the tower she built herself because she knew she would shatter.
My skin is the soft amber of a human girl who lost her wings,
dived into the ocean,
and spent more than one too many days swimming this newfound freedom,
but more than two short of enough.
I am not your trophy, your jeweled treasure chest.
My hair is not an abundant waist-long waterfall of melted gold,
and I am not the size 0 I used to so blatantly long for.
My body is plain, unadorned.
I stand tall with my head held high.
Because I am not your one night stand.
My lips are not the soft pink of dawn,
they are the&
My skin is no longer the milky white alabaster of a flawlessly sculpted statue,
too afraid to jump out the tower she built herself because she knew she would shatter.
My skin is the soft amber of a human girl who lost her wings,
dived into the ocean,
and spent more than one too many days swimming this newfound freedom,
but more than two short of enough.
I am not your trophy, your jeweled treasure chest.
My hair is not an abundant waist-long waterfall of melted gold,
and I am not the size 0 I used to so blatantly long for.
My body is plain, unadorned.
I stand tall with my head held high.
Because I am not your one night stand.
My lips are not the soft pink of dawn,
they are the&
RoseScarlet RoseScarlet
95
70
Literature
silentStarburst (4/30)
sound,silence.
I don’t want to be
disillusioned.
silence.sound,
I don’t need
to understand.
so when the little ones
who feel so big
swing key signatures
from fivelet skyscrapers(wherever
they roll
every downbeat is hammered
into our Anvil
Souls) -- they will ask --
?what
is all the fuss
about?
!and!
silence.sound,
darling:we don’t need
absolution.
sound,silence.
darling;Take
my hand.
I don’t want to be
disillusioned.
silence.sound,
I don’t need
to understand.
so when the little ones
who feel so big
swing key signatures
from fivelet skyscrapers(wherever
they roll
every downbeat is hammered
into our Anvil
Souls) -- they will ask --
?what
is all the fuss
about?
!and!
silence.sound,
darling:we don’t need
absolution.
sound,silence.
darling;Take
my hand.
scripted-silence scripted-silence
15
11
Everyone in the back room here at BIRH seems to be a little exhausted. Sadly, we cannot keep up with a monthly schedule at the moment, at least not as well as we'd like to. While we encourage you to continue submitting your art and musings on being human, there'll be a hiatus in official events for a while. Our sincere apologies for this. We'd rather do it right than do it while rushed and stressed.
Don't forget that BIRHindTheScenes is always available if you'd rather post something anonymously.
Best wishes, some more apologies, and may you have plenty of hot chocolate this winter,
Joz
Don't forget that BIRHindTheScenes is always available if you'd rather post something anonymously.
Best wishes, some more apologies, and may you have plenty of hot chocolate this winter,
Joz
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