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Literature Text
they say sad girls change their hair color
and forgive their monsters.
i change my morals
and become one.
and forgive their monsters.
i change my morals
and become one.
Literature
Confessions
there’s a lot I never told you
1. I have a habit of lying, about
the simple things (like, yes I
forgot to remember and I swear by
soul mates and I’m in love
with your susurrus voice
and no, I’m really doing fine).
It was not an act of infidelity because
I believed it, too.
2. I’m infatuated with the concept
that I am more or less fictional, the
delusive beauty a million men will
dedicate novels to: I am fragile,
a dust angel sent to save the world
from commonalities and
myself.
3. Since I’m not allowed
to remember your name
I will commemorate you
in acts of escapism,
killing off the pieces
of the pe
Literature
fall mornings
cigarette in hand
he said something about October,
smoke and breath mingling with the fog,
scarf wrapped thick around his throat,
but you didn't really hear
past his cold red-tipped fingers
slick and silent secret-keepers,
leaves sheened with yesterday's rain,
wax-coated gemstones rolled out
the product of your genetic anomaly,
the gods dashing themselves against the rocks
[he still doesn't know what happened to your mother]
you were tattoos all the way up
tasteful,
vines twining around your arms like dark green barbed wire,
martyr's ink hair shirt
and your toes went numb in your too-small
fashionable boots,
laces dipped in
Literature
Sehnsucht
October again;
and the curtains billow
with broken glass echoes and
Mendelssohn's bride waltzing
to better times
(ein
zwei
drei)
She becomes the rain,
and breaks her own heart as the sound
drips
right through us.
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