your pupils pinpoints and mine gigantic by blanketings, literature
Literature
your pupils pinpoints and mine gigantic
we meet at midnight (or maybe one) and you’re wearing the same
hoodie you’ve been wearing for three years. the wind nudges us
apart but somehow still you’re soft and smiling. i don’t have a
scarf. there’s a snowball down my shirt and then there’s
this noise ripped from me like i’m gasping and
laughing at the same time and it’s the
ugliest noise i’ve ever heard. i try
to chase you but you’re faster
and it’s okay because
you and i both
have such
terrible
aim.
we’re both just glad to be alone.
there
are beds
i’ll never lie in
ever again and that
is for t
Crawling Brunhilda by MensjeDeZeemeermin, literature
Literature
Crawling Brunhilda
(With Apologies to the Billabong Set)
In my basement bathroom
As I plopped down on the 'throne,'
A blur none too distant!
What could it be?
A large brown spider
Climbing up the eastern wall!
You'll come, o crawling Brunhilda, with me!
Crawling Brunhilda!
Crawling Brunhilda!
You'll come, o crawling Brunhilda, with me!
A large brown spider
Climbing up the eastern wall!
You'll come, o crawling Brunhilda, with me!
I don't kill spiders,
At least, I don't any more.
God made all spiders, hence, my mercy!
Still, I won't have one
Crawling up my bathroom wall!
You'll come, o crawling Brunhilda, with me!
Crawling Brunhilda!
Crawling Brunhilda!
You'
Dull fear drops on me, leaden, gray.
The Wuhan virus leads its way.
I huddle in my lonely room
And lose a staring match with doom.
Only my hopeful thoughts take wing
And flap off into a lifeless Spring.
I wonder at each frightened breath
If I've drawn in the silent death.
Night and clouds now form a pawl--
The sun does not come out at all.
We cower and we draw apart,
Each with terror in his heart.
We endure prison cells of days.
Life's colors fade to somber grays.
We peer outside, taut with suspense,
At what might hide the pestilence.
Look at this choking calm it's made!
One's life is like one's hopes--decayed.
The brave go forth to keep
gravemaw mirrors its gape,
three hellscapes look back on
failure,
failure,
failing bits of diction.
what a malediction is man,
that braggart that cannot stand
his own pompous circumstance.
there is no enhancing
a maggot;
it always
seeks rot.
throttle me.
you thought you’d bottle me
in my own throat?
i’ve known the flavor
of grave clothes
is awfully, dang’rously close
to the languor
of lies.
anger
is a hell of a look
on you.
felt alive in dire expression,
can’t you savor me?
marred your inking eyelid’s tether
by pressing into seams.
admired gasps, aspiring feathers
that dance to their deceit
i’ll make myself a darling ember;
you won’t remember me.
Where is the identity of the card? by oviedomedina, literature
Literature
Where is the identity of the card?
Whilst the paper becomes the world and Poe and Bocaccio start reliving their inks, I have lost my face and my pockets. Not in the sense of teenagers who have been quarterback slammed by acne and klutzy bones too uncomfortable in the second gear life life; No, my wallet has become an Eurydice who was denied the chance to look back and there are no lamentations capable of touching the ribs of any passerby much less the police, whose ears have the gait of a glaciar in Pluto and are more locked than the bricks of the planet. Calendars blur by and keyboards grow crippled as the year dredges upwards while threatening to topple off at any breath in a perfect joke with no face to cap its restless feet
I heal by attacking myself
digging into a tumorous soul
ripping out all things that glisten
I am becoming an (anti)biotic girl
with how many times I’ve replaced myself
you pathogen, you parasite
unable to admit a sickness
stow lost literature for inflammation
pretend coughing is not choking
your affliction is not affection
it’s a virus seeping closer to the heart
with no immunity, no vaccine
you slipped away from me
as time slips away
and i would chase after you-
occasionally you would turn to face me
in your radiance
but your silence has used me
and now you return to embrace me
yet warmth does not fill my chest
i no longer know who you are