11/9
buried underneath
the water
(swallow my guts, baby)
melting in the
inner core,
but as solid
as bones
and as thick
as the blood
of sisters
(my blood is light)
as literary
as horror
but as real
and as split
as reality
(true horror)
even when
i'm in the sky
(digest my guts, baby)
even when i feel
as orange as
the rising sun
(make a movie out of my lungs and they will scream)
as crisp
as the evening moon
as sultry as
the awakening stars
(cough my blood out, baby)
i'm still writhing
underneath the waves
and i'm still saving
all the ships that
try to sink
as they
make their way
through my own
abyss
(i can't be an angel)
they see snakes
and ghosts
in my chest
(i am your martyr)
but they scream
and i wonder
why i stay
in their
flooded attic
(they never even sent me a thank you note)
i think that
i'll always be like this
(light her up and she will fly)
