sunset

refreshing for a journal update

flash flash flash photography!!

mine. mine, mine, mine, mine. mine, mine, mine.

i will to devour what’s truly mine; rip it to shreds with my claws, tear it apart with my teeth. i want the blood, the flesh. i want to live in between your ribs, be your ache— the pinch of heart that cuts your breath. i want to keep your hair and your nails and your teeth and bits of your skin. somewhere safe. in a locket, a vial, always hanging from my neck.

i’m on a leash, muzzled, only nibbling your surface without piercing it. mouth brushing— bruising is all i can do if i want to keep you whole. slide my fingers under your shirt, in your jeans ‘cause i can’t dig them deep within your skin. i can’t help this ringing that’s in my ear, buzzing.

mine. mine, mine, mine, mine. mine, mine, mine.

what will happen when i’ve finally licked your bones clean? no love can be contained by a carcass, but i’ve got nowhere else to put it. i’m keeping you whole.

come and devour

my skin is pale enough to show you all my veins. weaving purples, the blues under diaphanous surface. is it scary for you, father, this glimpse at my insides? the sun will bring out my scars as much as my freckles. is it repulsive to you, mother, this glimpse at what’s hidden? i look soft again— won’t you hit me again until i harden?

i’m bleeding all over, gushing from my healed wounds. too busy barking and gnarling and biting to be licking them clean.

im horrible, narcissistic, ungrateful, angry, spiteful, bitter. i’m seventeen. it’s getting to me. all i can do is damage control. all i ever do is damage control. that’s all i ever do. damage control.

i got all the colours i’ve forsaken back on my nails. yellow, pink, i feel sick and the dishes clink. purple, teal, i feel like a child — stand still. ticking, ticking, ticking, clock is turning. back to— back in, back in, time. three days, three cigarettes. i won’t drink so this is the next best thing. clean slate for the sunset, almost sedated.

for ten days, i’m setting.

last year, i listened as lorde rhymed "beaches" with "jesus", laid on bondi's sand and stared at the sea for easter. tried not to think about my mother; i'm trying not to think about my mother.

good friday.

this year, i took an everything shower. grey and misty weather, even if the sun is getting closer. they translated a sin as homosexuality so there will be no mass, no eggs, no prayers. only blessings in form of blasphemies for me on easter.

good friday.

jesus, you died, so long ago today, for all of our sins; i'll make this three-days week-end worth your sacrifice. jesus, you'll be glad to awaken— there will be no treason, only grand lesbianism.

good friday.

i lit lilith's candle and i wear a birthday cake scent as a suit. i love when religious holidays and sapphicism embrace each other on my calendar. that's real holiness. god is gay and this music may contain hope.