Teenager Bullshit.

Traipsing between the void and madness,
one becomes dull.
The once aureate spring of sun
becomes unhappy, dead.

I needed to feel.

Love, who has set out to so
delicately rip the threads from my
dress, I find myself buckling beneath
your power.

I needed to feel.

The sound of leather stretches
and groans against my thighs.
My breath escapes from its chamber.
The world seems to stop spinning
long enough for me to realize its fragility.

I needed to feel.

My problem was simple:
I no longer feared death.
Fear is the bitch.

I needed to feel.

As my lips went numb,
the lights in the distance began to fade.
The only sound left was the rush of blood,
the mewling throat.

I needed to feel
because if I didn’t,
I surely would have gone to jump,
or carved the flesh, or tightened the band
around my arm to push the needle through.
If I didn’t feel, not even a little at all,
I’d be dead by 2.

Fear is the bitch
that came crawling out from between my thighs,
grinning and finally, finally,
you scared me.
I thought I could die.

Instead, I melted against you, soft as watercolor.

Life was there, in your hands,
in mine. Kissing and biting at my palms saying,
“I’m here… I’m here.”

Years ago I had been fucked.
I was strangled against concrete in the
black spit of night.
The face, yes the face, red and angry with
vicious delight
had tormented my last thoughts before I slipped
into an unconscious sleep.

But now, how beautiful it was,
to be awake.

To feel.

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3 thoughts on “Teenager Bullshit.

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