i believed the fairy tales;
and permitted myself listen to the phantomed hymns of the heartbroken sirens that lullabied me into ornate nightmares and epiphanies of their make believe love stories sung in the absolute soliloquy that unhingedly tore itself apart in the depths of the fiery tempests of my heart.
i plucked the tears blooming on my eyelids and wept over the garden growing lucid lilac night shades that exhumed intoxicating delusions unto my creviced mind, and over twilights i got helplessly drunk on the nectar of the saturated moon flowers it grew- perhaps as much as I did on the excerebated aching of my ligaments
when love left me.
and now i howl at love:
"Look, I can do it; I can hurt myself too."
i can make a carnage out of my heart.
i can corrode the functioning organs of my mechanical body system with sorrow driven into madness so that my gesticulations would fluctuate in every affectionated circumolocution that would be ever said to me.
i can craft ghosts out out of sullen nights and make them hold the same mien of the silhouettes living in the shattered memories so that they would violently pulsate through my hollow being in haunting reminiscence. love,
can't you see me?
can't you see me?
here i am hurting myself just to prove that i can. i can, and let me tell you something-
love, you didn't need to burn my world away.
you didn't need to rabidly tear me open with blood bronze talons covered in roses and
break each of my ligaments apart,
and you didn't need to marinade them in rusty lily saccharine sweet lies only to
pierce my star and gasoline tear stained pieces back together again because love, it hurts. you underestimate me sometimes because,
love, i can hurt myself too.
i can hurt myself too
I CAN
HURT
MYSELF
TOO.
--the (first) nights of heartbreak
YOU ARE READING
love; and other disorders
Poetry"i just sat there, coughing frightful swans birthed from milk grapefruit flower love to swim in the pools of midnight, as you (with your fingers slightly touching mine) charmed the half-crazed moon with a rare rosen wine berry into what we were: a 2...
