the Dmitri fuckers are in the city again; I shouldknow, I am their principal leader and follower and the sole member of a society dedicatedto unreality. I say Leningrad -- and he sayssay Petersburg say Petersburg and then coughs up bloodinto my hand. I say Cambodia -- and he sayssay genocide say genocide saygenocide, but… Continue reading poem: reading crime and punishment for the #dark academia aesthetic
Author: elizabeth claire
poetry for the desperate and the romantic. university student, bored out of her mind.
poem: savoir complex in maine
he was the summer crashed and crushedinto a boy who did not exist yet; and i remember a noveli was going to write -- about a girl with salted longhair, riding her bikealong seaside cliffs and a boy with black -- hair who worked in a bakery and wanted to kill himself. now when i… Continue reading poem: savoir complex in maine
poem: the coffee-shop people
the lights in the coffee-shop are plaguelights; the orange faces of men neutered and hung upsidedown. i am the lonely one, sitting at one of fifteen tables round like breastsand remembering why i studied in university to suchan extent that i had only casual friends; people that collided into my bodylike accidents; and i spent… Continue reading poem: the coffee-shop people
poem: “daddy issues”
he had a blank face with translucent light coming thru and the penis-bitten shape of my father in his mouth,ready to eat and replace me. i had the kind of longing that comes from sitting alonein a gas station, eating noodles from a smallplastic container with the translucent whitelight in my hair turning me into… Continue reading poem: “daddy issues”
poem: touya
the boy he told me i don't believe anymore in the rest of my far away life and i told him none of usdo that is the secret everyoneis lonely and no oneis lonely everyone is separateand languishing
poem: shifting
remember? i dreamed aboutthis kind of bliss but now in the pulled-apart strings of myheart there is onlya dull long ache and the aluminum footsteps of heart-burncoming up from my chest like a foreign man crossing overmy seven boarders his handsstill wet. remember? we were going to takethe world i woke you up in the… Continue reading poem: shifting
poem: I have lost reality many times
and yet she always come back, that unreliable bitch. you'd think I could let my organs run off in snot safetyfor several hours and not return to disgusting wherewithal when I shower or finally sleep, as if everything wrong with me was merely situational. I can write claimsin mad tongues that I am also doomed… Continue reading poem: I have lost reality many times
poem: vendetta for the summertime
i have run through the streets, kicking my breasts before melike two cast-off wheels; i have dyedmy hair from a box,it is red, like the red scraped under my nailsfrom fucking your son. i am kidding of course; i am too busy languishingin hospital beds or the wet parts of my mind, and lately the… Continue reading poem: vendetta for the summertime
poem: i tell God He has a lot of explaining to do
pain is whati am used to; the baby came outin pieces. do you cryyourself to sleep, at night?sometimes.
poem: parents
my mother is a penis-eater, my fatheris a leviathan; what did they tell you about childhood, is "belonging" really already inside you? and the pain will someday(they say) go away? fuck that, i am laying in the kitchen, the circus lightsplugged in bloody holes in the ceiling devouring my face; my father is a worm… Continue reading poem: parents
