our home should have colours and flowers. daisy sims hilditch / christine atkins / stephen darbishire / marie-louise roosevelt pierrepont
Dirt road Polna droga
I am holding my bloody heart out to you, my hands stained with red from holding it for so long.
and while you are not the person who ripped it out of my chest,
you are the person I am trusting to take care of it.
maybe you can put it back in for me.
Alpine lotus leaf flower
I used to think you were a smart man
now I’m not so sure
in fact
I think you told us several times
when I was younger
that you were anything but
you scared me too much to test that
I hope the people who live in our old house
look at the dent in the freezer
that you nearly broke your foot making
because you wished you could have done
it to me instead
and wonder how it got there
and soon enough they will discover
the lines I scratched into the wood
into the walls
little traces of anger
it fills every support beam,
every wall,
every floorboard like rot
spreading
consuming
devouring
I think I shall never forget the first time
seeing my mother’s new name
on a package with mine
I think she is getting better.
so am I.
How to Save Your Own Life, Erica Jong
something is rotting.
the smell pervades the house, wafting through the halls, seeping under the doorframes.
it’s subtle at first. easy to ignore. i turn on a fan and soon enough I’ve gone noseblind.
it’s been three days. I found a little mouse dead on the floor. it’s small. too small.
the smell gets worse. the fan is on all the time now. I put perfume under my nose to block it out. eventually, I grow numb.
a week. there is no escaping it. I have looked everywhere. it has stained all my clothes. It is here, somewhere, the source of it.
it has been months. I cannot leave. I am weak. it affects me constantly.
something is rotting.
it is me. it has always been me.
have a cat.
it is slowly getting brighter outside.
the horror clawing at me as my eyes snap open,
terrified of images that are intangible
and cannot harm me any longer.
it is slowly getting brighter outside.
The sunset tonight.
21. poetry, stream-of-consciousness, musings, aesthetic posts
64 posts