Split teeth and dead ends. Trampled hearts dead upon thy dying lungs―forged pride and synthetic hubris. My syntax spills out words like bile and stories that unfold in disarray. Chipped nails and bloody noses and crying limbs that have fallen from your hands. You fight and fight until you break; mangled flesh and bones and bruises that carry your skin away. Unruly hair of corn-flour dye and sunflower decor. We -- you and I, me and you, them and us -- spit up blood and kill and protect even those that have wronged us ( all except him ) and we cry over gravestones of the ones that have taught us all we know.
Bloody knuckles and watery eyes.
When we grow old I will as you why you fought until your organs broke, why you told them to go and go until their legs fell beneath their own weight. I will tell you that you are incompetent, that you are selfish. Saving everyone but yourself, that you are far too kind and naive for all you have been through. You tell me that you are happy like this, but I will show you my scars, the mangled flesh and wrangled bones hidden beneath molten skin and ask you―
Name on hero that was happy. Please.
―And you will stand with tears in your eyes and say you don't know. I will say that I don't either. That everything we have loved is gone―spilled from cherry blood and the moons shadow, we die on a hill too far away and we scream out are sorrows over everyone ( not him never him ) . We crash and burn and punch with pink bandages on our hands and dying stars in our eyes.
God hath not saved us, but we are too far gone.
YOU ARE READING
cigarette smoke.
RandomGOD GIRL || drowning in the abyss that is you. POETRY, 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙚!
