icHor nostAlgia | [poetry]

| intro

[] Confession: I wish for vacant eyes

°Heartbreak buzzes in my fingertip;
Within my spine,
Clogging my throat.

°Oh
Wait.
Nevermind.

That's just the waves swallowing me whole.

The shrapnel depths of patchwork° emotion.

The way that a brush spreads watercolor paint upon plastic;

I am like my emotions:
no one can really see me if they don't try to look.

°They dont really belong here 
In this soft swell of ethereal bleakness

that sounds really pretty before the beauty of the package is exploited.

°I wonder if next unwrapping I will find beauty instead of corpses.

°I don't belong here.

Within envelopes of lake leering eyes that see a world of happenings;

glamorized and discolored to make a decrepit rainbow.

They belong in satin and emerald° lackadaisical glass

in cognito as dark interior.

°I want to someday,
One day,
Belong to this havoc

Running away to this ichor nostalgia

Where the leaves are on steroids,

And I am content to burn.

°I've always been on fire for something.

Something beyond my yawning eyes.

People

just

mistake

it

for

happiness.

🔱

Lil' disclaimer: this was off to a rocky start, but I'm here bitches! *insert evil cackle and seductive smizing* I am really looking forward to writing this book, and i hope that all of you out there would enjoy! I know that there's like only five of you guys, but you know, whatever.✌🏾
Love,  Jemeah

(P.s. don't steal my shit)