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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 03:32 AM
Hello everyone. I'm setting up this thread as a place for my writing. Most of what I do is a blend between poetry and prose - it's all relatively short, for the most part, and used as emotional venting.
Each work will receive its own separate post in this thread. Most of them are untitled.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:34 PM ----------
crooked
--
i do not wish you the sweet embrace of death. it is a lover far beyond your deserving, a kiss much too good for your filthy lips. i want you to keep taking steps on this horrid earth. it was made for things like you, a place to suffer, and when we’ve all gone on to bliss, you’ll still be pounding the ground with your fists, begging for something more.
thanatos shall not lead you through the field of poppies. charon shall not accept your coin. our elysium is closing our eyes. your tartarus shall be every breath you take. you’ll continue to be alone as you ever were, not even majestic enough to be a wounded beast lashing out, but just a pathetic as-is, never to rot and return.
and so: i hope up you wake up every day to the sunlight. i hope that tea keeps you going. i hope your feet don’t give out. you were made for this. drink to your heart’s content and be merry, for mostly i hope you never have a grave for me to spit on, and that is the worst thing to wish upon anyone at all.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:35 PM ----------
a commentary on writer's block. mild violence.
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you took my muse out behind the shed and shot her point-blank. didn’t even give her time to grovel. now i stare at blank pages and a stark white screen, hearing her scream through the cotton stuffing the necks of pillbottles. her voice is gone and so is mine and maybe that’s for the better, because all i ever spoke was nails-on-a-chalkboard underneath everyone’s teeth.
stitch me up like my father and leave me to my brother, the wolf. maybe one day when i can haul myself off the sodden ground i’ll run with him, knees and hands in the dirt, but until then i’ll lay here, the stars burning pinpricks into my head until it’s dark. i must go on. eventually.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:36 PM ----------
cycles
--
it seems that every time
someone extends a hand
it is only with pretense to hold
in the end they dip into the inkwell of
ragged many-times-torn veins
on bared vulnerable wrist
to sign, with a flourish
under many names before
a laundry-list of vampires
sucking me dry to the bone.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:37 PM ----------
found poetry using the wiki articles for disassociation and depersonalization (and a small bit from delirium)
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seeking to master (or minimize)
occupying the body
a constellation of
trauma
carefully review
the inability to recall
a harbinger of something much greater
unreal, distant, artificial, colourless
a natural necessity
for consciousness to operate
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:38 PM ----------
--
my bones in the ground are changing.
winter killed me. i know, i know - i promised to be hearty, to shake off the frost. i didn’t mean to lie to you. but when the sky turned grey, when the nights stretched over the days, i knew i couldn’t.
i froze, and i’m sorry. not sure to who, really. myself? you? that hope of a far-off green that i selfishly failed?
it turns out the universe likes second chances.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:44 PM ----------
--
a deer can run for fifty yards after a straight shot to the heart, but my own hooves won’t even touch the ground. my heart hasn’t been pierced, but rather eaten through with slow rot: a necrosis, a fire boiling my bones to chalk.
when the spring comes it will make something of me. it will swallow me whole and spit me out again, all in tender green vines, long after winter has sunken its teeth into me (pulled me apart, carnivorous and lusting for aching marrow).
maybe you will hear from me when the flowers bloom. it would be nice to have a voice again, to have words, something other than deadened branches screaming wordlessy against glass.
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:44 PM ----------
--
on the death of grace, bleeding out into the snow
skin stained and you are tongue-tied and trembling
claw through the ice (rock hard) nails tearing
dawn-light glitter on white to the east again
nobility falls as do we all, dear prince:
plant yourself into the barren earth
and hope to grow once again anew
---------- Post added 04-01-2013 at 10:45 PM ----------
--
man’s greatest dream is to outrun you
and there lays the divide, my disconnect.
i want to meander the slow path, inevitable
wrap me up, swallow me whole, eternal
a love everlasting, whole and pure
that only comes at the end of the story:
a fear that crawls into their bones
a desire that throbs in mine
eat me alive
(until i am not)
Last edited by Gravekit; 04-02-2013 at 03:47 AM..
Reason: typos & bbc code error
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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 03:46 AM
love poem for a ghost
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you’re here as much as any
flesh i can touch that you’d rather shed
unwillingly beating heart
painfully corporeal
i like it because i can hold you.
but i know you’d rather slip through my arms
not for lack of love but for
longing to be free.
i hate and love your tether.
the way i can feel warm hands, lips
when they should chill to the bone
and sometimes i long to visit your grave
a plot not bought yet, untouched dirt
have you be barely there in the night
as you should be; a whisper-visitor
selfish, selfish, i can’t decide whether i’d
have you here or there
cut you loose to a satin-lined bed
or keep you trapped in my back pocket
“if you love something, set it free
if it comes back, it’s yours” -
but i’m scared. were you ever really
here at all?
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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 03:48 AM
i have my mother’s eyes
and my father’s chin:
they say, you look so much
like her, like him, their
little girl.
they don’t know that
i have my mother’s guilt
and my father’s anger:
like her, like him, their
little girl.
and i’ve got things all my own
some that i hold in open hands
and others i tuck into my pocket
so they can go through the wash
hopefully never to be seen again.
i have my own hurt and
my very own self,
like me, like me, their
little boy.
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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 03:52 AM
ersatz (or, the lies we tell)
--
She finds out his secret the first night they lay together - when her fingers brush across cold, unfamiliar iron. He jerks back, eyes teacup wide and face pale. "I told you I was going to tell you a secret," he murmurs.
The night goes on without a word from her.
When he gets up to make breakfast the next morning, she's gone, and he spends the day shut off.
--
bzzzzz
His eyes flutter open and he scrambles for his phone.
sorry about yesterday i just needed some time to think about things
oh thats okay.
its um
a little hard to deal with i guess.
yeah
for me, even,
i bet
so are we okay? i mean, i'm still me.
She doesn't text back.
He spends that night in the tub, shaking, torso open to invite rust.
--
She comes to dinner with him a day after, all smiles, but it feels as cold as his insides. The silence from before lingers even when she's talking and crawls into his throat, stealing the words from him. He wrings his hands in his lap instead of eating, watching her every move, waiting for an outburst.
It never comes, and he wonders.
At home he opens himself up again in the mirror, taking note of the placement of crucial gears. The thought ends up tucked away for the moment, successfully avoided, but it still exists.
--
He plays the conversation out in his head so many times that some nights, he's so very sure it's become real.
"What is there to say?" she spits out, hissing her s's like steam. "You lied to me. Lied this entire time. I thought you were somebody I can love, but no, you're fucking ersatz. Do you know what that means? Fake. Fake, that's what you are. You are in no way a real man, and you shouldn't have made me fall for you like you did. You. Lied."
This time, he's shut off for a week.
--
When he wakes up, he has too many missed calls to count.
They vary from: "Hey -- are you okay? I haven't heard from you lately, and that's kind of...weird, you usually text me in the mornings." to "please, please, pick up your phone, this isn't right, did something happen?", and he doesn't know what to say, so he stares at the numbers until he falls asleep again.
In the morning he tries to act as human as he can, calling her to reassure her, saying he'll see her soon, but by the afternoon he realizes that he's losing speed and so he just crawls into bed.
He doesn't need to think about it when he sleeps.
--
Lying open in the bathtub has become a nightly ritual now. He doesn't know what else to do; he can't handle seeing her anymore because the guilt eats him alive - so he takes control of another thing that eats him up, just to have a handle on something.
--
He decides that's too slow, so he takes himself apart piece by piece and lays it all out until he comes to a stop.
She uses the keys to his apartment and finds him on her own. There are tears, and for fleeting moments she thinks of following. When she's forced to leave, she sneaks a small gear out with her.
--
She moves on in a few of the ways he would have wanted her to, finding another man, settling down, trying to be happy. When she and her husband talk of kids, she shakes her head, tells him no, not like you want them. She doesn't care if he leaves, because this is something she needs to do.
He's built from scratch and takes years, blueprints scattered everywhere and many failed attempts needing to be dismantled, but eventually, she succeeds, and he stands tall. He isn't the same person, even if she used a part of him, and she wouldn't want him to be - but at least she can tell him what she failed to ages ago.
Her hands shake as she clasps his cheeks and brings him close to kiss his forehead. Fully grown but new to the world, he's trembling too.
"You're as real as anything else would ever be," she murmurs against his skin, and though he barely understands, he smiles his first smile.
Last edited by Gravekit; 04-02-2013 at 03:59 AM..
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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 03:59 AM
promise
--
even if you can't hear me
(and sometimes, i can't hear you, the ones that tell me this -
because my ears are stuffed with years and years of
shut your mouth girl this was how you were born
chin up you're here until you die)
i want to tell you:
it will be okay. maybe not today
or tomorrow
or next month
or next year
or as far as you think you can see
but we're not liars.
it hurts now. we know.
it's hard now. we know.
but i want to let you in on a secret
(another thing we know).
all the things that cut and scratch
and burn and tear and pierce now?
in the end, they'll only be scars
scars you can look back on and say
i was strong. i made it through.
and when it hurts to much to handle
you'll remember you've done it before.
survived before.
and you've got the strength
to do it again.
another thing to keep in mind:
when you're too tired to stand on your own
we'll hold you up for as long as you need
because - trust me - we know what the ground's like
we'd do anything to keep you off of it
and flying high where you belong.
in the end, what i'm trying to say is
i love you and you and you and you and you
and i want you to stick around and see
how the world blossoms if you wait
you can't plant a seed and excpect it to bloom
the very next day - now can you?
if you need water and a little bit of sun
i'll give you that. i'll give you anything.
because you're worth it, it's worth it,
and you'll make it.
promise.
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Gravekit
Necromantic Faefox
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04-02-2013, 04:02 AM
let me open my mouth wide, little girl -
you'll tell them all i gobbled you up
but i know you crawled in willingly.
what big ears you have!
the better to hear you with, my dear.
to hear the sweet tone of your voice with -
so curious, even though you know it's wrong.
what big eyes you have!
the better to see you with, my dear.
to see the way you're shaking like a leaf -
you're scared, but i know that isn't all.
what big teeth you have!
the better to eat you with, my dear.
to eat you up, heart and soul and all -
keep you locked inside of me forever.
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