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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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When my words no longer hit you. If you swallow them away whilst think "ugh another poem, another battlefield of her sad thoughts." It must mean we're close to over.
It must mean my white flag has been set aflame. When my kiss dies off your lips and that doesn't hurl your stomach. When my touch reminds you of nothing more than empty. That moment you close your eyes and I'm no longer there. We must be really ending and that moment makes me wish for amnesia, for falling into pavement, my wrist slit. A real ending instead.
The knowledge that I'll never stop seeing your face whenever I close my eyes. Aching by the missing of your touch. The no longer getting saved by quiet moments reassured you're there. That knowledge is more deadly than the simple tearing of just my heart.
My soul no longer breathes without you and I'm here shattered but never really present in anything. I laugh without feeling the sound, cry tearless. Broken beyond restoration no thought of how to get back from that.
Sleepwalking through days requiring the impossible to find me. The only thing keeping my sanity a small pearl of hope. It splashes between your fingers almost ran dry. Almost, almost the only thing keeping me almost.
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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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Some moments flinch behind my eyes, just pinching me as I lie awake. The minutes it took you driving from the hotel to a street leading me back home. And I was just wishing time to reverb, to linger and stare at me for a moment. Your palm on my knee a little longer, your smile never dissolving into memory. If I hadn’t begged so much already I would just hold your taste on my tongue, full and brisk never daunting. I would just keep you inside of me until you’re completely bewitched and your soul turns into a paper for me to write’’I love you’’ on.
Seven years wrapped in seven hours, how your face felt the same running my fingers over. I swear addiction isn’t just meant for substances, I swear I felt your poison in all my wounds filling me up as if I could be completed. It was nearly impossible to tame the rhythm of this hunger, to tame my wanting, my yearning for those small breaths you take being inside me. Folded the release in the back of my mind, cumming would kill me. Never been this vibrantly present in someones eyes, intense is a word you altered. It’s a word you evaporated into a sigh I can’t allow my mouth to depart from.  
And I hate you for possessing my body like this, as if I’m strings and I might have been a puppet all my life but feeling control slip from these fingers is unlike any vow I ever took. You are just a sunset I can’t stare away from, a dream surrendered to the horizon.
You called yourself my pillow and I smile the salt of tears away, it has been forty eight hours almost, biting my fingertips you still haven’t replied. Your silence aches, nauseates in a way leaving my stomach fucking empty and I wonder, do you know how my day is painted by thoughts of you. How my day exists of excerpts carrying your name. The maddening has started, the illusion back alive. Seven years of moving past your existence, remembering how to forget you. You hurt in me like a stab wound, like a hit on my jawline only this twenty four hours a day.
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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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You don’t grow
I remember going to the sea thinking I might die there someday. Someone once told me that hypothermia is the best way to go but getting to that stage feels like hell. I must have seen more hospitals than actually beds, doctors frowning my direction in disbelief some nurses holding my hand. Telling them how I ended up here, how I fell in love with a villain, how he fucked me eyes wide open, whispering "I love you" Craving those 60 years he promised me. I threw up, ached in my own spit while still bleeding her out of me.
The first time I cried as a mother. I never held you but you are more beautiful than all the things I dream. I called you Lilli for it sounded like joyful spring. I died in that moment, I revisit it sometimes to feel you. I revisit it for the knowledge of reality. It wasn't a nightmare, I can't revive you ever. You’re unborn like my hope for happiness. Like the slowed whisper of his voice echoing away. You are real, so real almost more vividly existing than me. I let go of you every hour of each day, finding you closer smothering me than ever.
I get older but you don't grow. Envisioning your fingertips and nails, lashes, cheeks. I almost touch your face, I almost feel you wrapped against my body. Always silent, always in a hurry to fade. You are irretrievable yet so very close. When he talks about you I laugh it's the only thing I know how to survive in. I wonder if he knows the way you bleed in me. If he feels a fraction of it lingering in his own heart. I try to escape the subject yet he wants my response on his provocation "You wouldn't have been a good mom anyway." And I take a bullet through my stomach as I shrug my shoulders. He wants to be right to ease it maybe. Yet I would have started wars for you. I would have devoured the world for a singular moment of your breathing. I would have loved you so hard and vast that it goes beyond anything alive but I reply with "probably" cos he must not even believe I'm capable of being anything other than crazy. He must not even believe when I close my eyes I tremble embracing your shadow.
I lie awake at the bottom of the sea, piano waves and serenity and bleeding and bleeding. Flinch awake you’re just an earthquake in me. A storm hauntingly shrieking for my attention and I wait to depart in it. I get older but you don’t grow small ghost, you don’t grow.
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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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I dream you awake
Seven years of repression resting,
unfreezing lakes of steel.
By fog inherent breathing,
cauterized.
I dream you awake,
under my skin.
Ineffable,
you stay.
A testimonial lingering,
of a kiss,
the type I can't afford to miss.
You are big words,
I am hollow breaths,
desiring another world.
The kind where we just met,
the kind without present or past.
Where your name isn't a curse,
I'm forbidden to speak,
where it lasts.
Wishing amnesia to enter,
these veins.
Wash you away,
as if a simple cleansing of our daydreaming tryst exists.
I dream you awake,
sipping my morning tea.
You are grass so green,
amid the wither.
Resurrecting,
dawning,
a quiver in bones.
Do you taste my inclination on your tongue?
Did my hunger for your heat grip you,
scraped your mind empty of doubt?
Will books remember us as a paradox,
or a love story set on fire?
You uncover me,
through remaining a shrouded question mark.
I can't stare you into love.
I can't bend the sky my direction.
Aching to feel alive,
infused by disastrous thought.
The world ending in this room.
Tucking myself away,
immortally near,
almost decaying in silence.
My mouth hurts,
of tainted kisses,
and volatile secrets.
But you are a summers breeze,
easing winter from my body.
A lighthouse in the distance.
You're quicksand and I can't wait to drown.
I pleaded heavy storms,
unmade beds,
broken candlelight.
Surrender.
Abide everything,
if it means salvation.
Rob me cold,
strip me entirely,
of gold and diamonds.
I'll return his name gladly,
if he allows me to keep mine.
You must know,
how I sigh speaking of love.
I'm the torment,
a beholden lie,
he can't set free.
Losing me,
day after day,
drop by drop,
until fractured out of his recognition.
I apologize for remaining,
for surviving the dreadful,
for his hands weaponizing sense into me.
It must resolve his emasculation momentarily,
but I don't tremble like I used to.
Closing my eyes and swallow,
gargle away his taste.
Like the vows I swore I wouldn't break.
Applauding another line.
Done saving the beyond me.
He's in the past,
sitting in front of me.
A ghost unwilling to depart.
And I travel to you,
for minutes,
hours.
Wishing a way,
I'll get there so easily every so often these days.
I laugh with my eyes closed.
The ceiling crackling above us,
almost mellifluous.
And it could have been a park bench,
a cold floor,
a abandoned ruin.
Required only your eyes,
only to return,
to where I know who I am.
I dream you awake,
when it rains.
When it pours heavy enough,
calling for your thunder.
The pronunciation of just my name.
That intangible air of desire,
almost unbearable even with you deep inside me.
Even with our bodies smothering.
Retracing those movements,
circling ever so swiftly through me,
like dying embers.
Felicity so near,
I reach to touch it,
yet it surpasses.
Close to an epic requiem.
A page burning through a magnifier.
I'll blister and bleed I don't care.
As long as you kiss this storm off my lips,
and sink those eyes into mine.
As long as your oxygen retrieves inside my bloodstream,
I'm temporarily satisfied.
And that sensation suffices.
That sensation survives the dying particles of light,
It survives age and time,
space and decline,
wrong from right.
-Angelunthinkable
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angelunthinkable · 3 years
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she asks me: how do i know when i'm over somebody?
think of you when i look at the moon. think of you while making daisy chains. think of you with your fingers around a wine bottle and your laughter under little string lights. think of you with your hair damp and our legs crossed in your bed. think of you setting out tarot cards, think of high places, think of sitting perfectly still so you don't recognize how much i'm aching.
dog summer. this winter was a marshland. i went so low that god had to pick up the phone and tell me to stop digging. i have given up most ideas and settled on "it's good enough." no more poetry. life is just a hard candy and i am bored of it sucking hard-enough.
think of you in class. think of you in the shower, plan my big confession, step out and sing a different hymn. think of you while i choreograph a new life; think of you while planting bigger pictures. think about what i would say if i had a second. maybe gotcha! maybe fuck you too. maybe hope you're okay.
tell my therapist - i feel better! and i mean that i haven't died yet. tell my therapist i feel better and mean that i haven't been sad like a violin. tell my therapist i feel better and mean - actually, that i feel better, a little bit.
think of you and braid my hair different. think of you and apply lipstick. think of you and tell a story where i call you someone i used to hang out with. think of you and write a dumb little poem about it. think of you and say you just know how to kiss different. think of you and be all logical about it, say i know we are different people, and that's something sacred. think of you and pick up the phone and don't send the message.
i'm over it, i'm over it, i'm over it. i'm over it like bird overhead. like kite. like scream. i'm not looking for you. i'm not watching out to see when you're listening. i'm over it. and i'm over thinking.
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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angelunthinkable · 6 years
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