Kizzy-Bloom

Pink below my blinds I float Wrapped in fog and grey. I stir and grasp at a body that no longer lies beside me. Shall I reach for warmth and sighs that may bid me Comfort and Solidarity? No longer. An endless parade of Morpheus' creatures Crowd my mind... I am plagued. Niobe overcomes me. I wake with only the Morning Dew To caress my skin And kiss my lips.

you know, I've carved a lot of honeysuckle into my wrists in my day and now I can't tell whether my taste is sweet or sour so I'll that question leave that up to you But twixt snowflake lines and yellowed blossoms my skin's all sorts of red and olive same as how the muscles between my heart and my lungs are painted black and blue there's canvas stretched across my soul and mind it's just about as blank as white cloud it needs a bit of color up there; maybe I'll carve red honeysuckle on it too

i do not exist to stoke your ego or sit around while you talk about your past triumphs and listen to you make a comparison. i do not exist to warm your bed or look pretty next to you on the couch and hear you make sexist comments. I do not exist to escort you to dinner or back to the house so I can sit around a be ignored. i do not exist to say pretty things and make you blush or be the man you want in a woman. I do not exist for you. How can I? I barely exist for me.

i woke up this morning with my back against the wall. I split the skin from my chest, cracked my sternum, and removed my heart along with everything I could ever hope to hold inside of tiny me. I laid the pieces of me in front of you and asked, politely, to show me what was wrong.

it's kind of like when you're headed to the top of a roller-coaster and you have all of this anticipation building in your stomach. the higher you climb, the higher the feeling climbs till it feels like your heart, your fragile, obnoxious heart is going to beat itself out of your ribcage jar and start firefly beating at the base of your throat soft, beautiful beats. and it can be the worst feeling in the world because you've never felt like this and you're scared out of your mind and what if you get to the top of the hill and there's nothing there waiting for you? just clouds and air and then you fall and have to pretend l

I have the deepest desire to listen to everything you have to say. Ever. Whether that's true or not, I'm gonna hold you to it Because I've been looking for someone to care about me for once, And my petty problems. Sometimes, I can't sleep at night from the holes you've been cutting in my dreams And boy, you must be tired because you've been running through my head for longer than I've known your name And when I heard it, I let it drip from my mind, from my mind's eye, From my pretty little mouth Like flowers drip nectar; Boy you make me drip honey From my eyes to my mouth Where the tongue dances out to grab some salt before m

I dream of you in colors that don't exist In places I don't remember We do things that don't have reason Talk for hours with no point Such as I write with no form Paint with no meaning Colors that don't exist would encompass The shades of the snow The tones of the sun The sound of your voice Muscles stretching as we smile Skin breaking as we love Place my secrets on to paper For everyone to read Secrets are secret Told to no one Shared with everyone There's a color for that too

The worst part about everything is the waiting. Waiting for initial contact. Waiting for first touch. Waiting for first kiss. Waiting for the first everything. And then There's waiting to stop being lonely. Waiting to stop feeling ignored. Waiting for a hello or how are you? Waiting for an I miss you. Waiting for you to say anything before I do. Soon after There's waiting for things that will never happen.

the uncaring nonchalant and blatantly apathetic words and i know the lack of caring and compassion you just can't do it you can't give me what i need from someone in this situation but i adore you regardless but it kills me every time you open your mouth.

There was once a time when this ostrich looked to the right. Always to the right. Never left. Never center. Only the right. The other ways were forbidden, and she buried her young head in the sand for a very long time. She built a castle from the fine dirt to protect herself from what she did not know Was not allowed to know. This ostrich spent days, months millenniums Adding more sand to the pile around her head Until there was grit  in her feathers and dust in her throat. She could not speak for herself, so others did for her. Her head was buried so deep. The people around her kept adding more sand until she felt her lungs woul