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Literature Text
the water rose above my collarbone though you promised you'd help keep me on the surface.
you'd keep me less dense, less probable, less present - anything - to keep me from going under but that's just the thing about bullshit you're fed with when you go to a synagogue after spending your first night at a brothel; you hope that you've prayed enough to spit in the face of the fool who created you out of boredom when you're done defying Him.
i have learned that your words resemble the pretty little flowers he used to place in my hair and that the hands that trace the arch of my cheekbone time and again were never yours but always, always his.
i wonder if i was taken in by your fragrant yet fast fading vows; i should have known from your asphodel stature that you had never tried the fear of an eternal God for size. you are closer than Narcissus will ever be to self-obsession as you choose to repeatedly hang yourself in envy of - none other than - yourself.
and you really should know that there was a time i wished for things like freedom to fill the void you think you left in me. your ester-like scent failed the Lucas test but you couldn't take that, could you?
your ego stretched the course of three airport runways and your talents included missing the point by a thousand miles, but yet you ask, love. you still wonder where it all went wrong.
you used to tell me silken fables of how we were once woven with the stars above, my love, and i used to allow myself to be fooled with your honeyed words. the truth is that i was just another moon from a handful, just another ring from a bunch- encircling planet You.
and even if you insist upon your star theory then know that, though our light can still be seen from where we stand, we have died ages ago. as pompous and noxious as you are, it is highly plausible that the universe's point of collapse begins from you.
till then, i'll set my telescope in your direction and hope i'm one of the lucky few that catches the ignition of your crashes and burns.
you'd keep me less dense, less probable, less present - anything - to keep me from going under but that's just the thing about bullshit you're fed with when you go to a synagogue after spending your first night at a brothel; you hope that you've prayed enough to spit in the face of the fool who created you out of boredom when you're done defying Him.
i have learned that your words resemble the pretty little flowers he used to place in my hair and that the hands that trace the arch of my cheekbone time and again were never yours but always, always his.
i wonder if i was taken in by your fragrant yet fast fading vows; i should have known from your asphodel stature that you had never tried the fear of an eternal God for size. you are closer than Narcissus will ever be to self-obsession as you choose to repeatedly hang yourself in envy of - none other than - yourself.
and you really should know that there was a time i wished for things like freedom to fill the void you think you left in me. your ester-like scent failed the Lucas test but you couldn't take that, could you?
your ego stretched the course of three airport runways and your talents included missing the point by a thousand miles, but yet you ask, love. you still wonder where it all went wrong.
you used to tell me silken fables of how we were once woven with the stars above, my love, and i used to allow myself to be fooled with your honeyed words. the truth is that i was just another moon from a handful, just another ring from a bunch- encircling planet You.
and even if you insist upon your star theory then know that, though our light can still be seen from where we stand, we have died ages ago. as pompous and noxious as you are, it is highly plausible that the universe's point of collapse begins from you.
till then, i'll set my telescope in your direction and hope i'm one of the lucky few that catches the ignition of your crashes and burns.
Literature
you're ruining your teeth
i think i
lost my way with words -
maggot-skulled,
i've unlearned imagery
or:
13 cavities
rotting to
bone-crowns &
starvation-poetry
Literature
Paper thin
Waiting for that salty breeze
to carry my feather like weight
Away
further
and one morning I will hug the shore
and kiss the bits of that sand as they call
You are home
Here
Broken, paper thin memories
Rusty laughter rings again
We waited
you came
My eyes full of cotton clouds
and I lay there, my heart at peace
and I dream
You
Literature
Paint
I'd like to storm Heaven and steal God's paintbrushes.
Then I'd paint rainbows all over the sky so
Everyone knows it's safe to come out.
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pilots with lovers lose themselves to the milky way.
--
collaboration with my lovely big sister, Dee.
that's the amazing =Sammur-amat for you. do give her piece some love, if you come across mine first: [link] 
--
collaboration with my lovely big sister, Dee.
that's the amazing =Sammur-amat for you. do give her piece some love, if you come across mine first: [link] © 2013 - 2024 your-methamphetamine
Comments39
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Both of you received equal representation. 
All in all, what I got from this collab was empathy and apathy both molded together - it read like a dream, even though it was a nightmare being narrated.
well done.
All in all, what I got from this collab was empathy and apathy both molded together - it read like a dream, even though it was a nightmare being narrated.It definitely does read like a collab: have to give *your-methamphetamine her due share of respect for writing something like this. Excellently written honestly. I'm impressed.
well done.