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dancingpuppet · 2 months

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A New Day (A New Night)

Tonight I realized that death is the only one who stays. It’s an empty stomach. The rotting darling. I pull all my teeth out and the tooth fairy doesn’t come, just lets me bleed and bleed and bleed until I remember that my blood is warm like a kiss. And with that, I stop bleeding.

Tomorrow I will realize that the eyes are only curtains. Have you ever seen the Sun peek through? And I will cry and find that my tears are here to water, and sweetness comes only with that and— something else. But it won’t even be on the tip of my tongue. I will not be able to name it, not tomorrow.

Someday I’ll realize myself with a noose and several journals. That day I will suffocate until I find the answer in my lungs, my stomach convulsing. I will take the rope and wrap my arms together. And breathe. And I will find that name, that day, buried in my rib cage. But not today. I can’t be good today. Just someday.

#poems #poetry #words #original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poetic #poems on tumblr #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #spilled words #my words #words words words #depression #tw suicide

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dancingpuppet · 2 months

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create me

cemetery, you find my corpse.

breathe into me, enrapture the dead.

revival, so frail.

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #words words words #literature #prose #love poem #This is a little silly of me to post...

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dancingpuppet · 2 months

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Summer’s Anatomy

Still the light fades as wrinkles crease against that bright sunshine-smile.

My knees are bloodied with the hours of begging to live an eternity.

I just tried to take a handful of the Sun, but it slipped through the gaps.

The mirror cracks like the thunderstorm where we hid under my broken bunk bed.

I break open my mirror and peel the Love out.

But it slips, like the Sun, right back through the gaps.

#poems #poetry #poem #original poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #poet #poems and poetry

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dancingpuppet · 3 months

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(obsessed)

open me. open me. bleed me dry, make it shallow. it’s suicide tonight, my echo. elevate me… to high heaven.

see my face in the mirror. stomach the thought of eating me alive. autocannibalist. destroy me. let’s destroy me.

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #tw cannibalism #acrostic poem #acrostic

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dancingpuppet · 3 months

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I close the curtains;

and the lack of applause

sickens me. The end—

It fell on me just as

a falling feather, fluttering—

"Who won?" . . .

"Who won?" . . . the

curtains are closed.

#this looked better on paper #original poem #poems and quotes #poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #words words words #short poem #prose #writing #writeblr

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dancingpuppet · 3 months

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Nebula

Numb my nerves every night; engulf me in the ebbing light.

“Break me,” I plead, “bruise me, use me.” Realize: we are unholy.

Lure me in—your exultant embrace awakened my black hole disgrace.

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry

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dancingpuppet · 3 months

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lover (none, not even myself)

Languid: I follow you, obeying and observing — vanishing as your volitional victim.

Early morning: I sit at your door, readying myself for — the sound of my own heartbeat.

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poetic #poems #poets corner #spilled poetry #poets of tumblr #obsessive love #spilled words #love poem #love poetry #unrequited love #this is an acrostic for “LOVERS”#if you didn't notice... ahah

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dancingpuppet · 4 months

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My Dream Of You (And On: Those Hands)

Darling, I caught you in my dream; it was just last night you, me— and the Universe hummed. She whistled a tale where we lived

on little lily pads, lived a lullaby-life. A fiction, only obvious as you reach for a roach, lift it light as a feather—crush it in your hand.

You open your palm to me and offer me the rotten thing. I see no blood; I still connect it together: my hand in yours—the

time I closed my eyes—and how open yours were as I slept. It’s still those hands on my waist. You, red-handed, a body.

And mine?

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets of tumblr #poets corner #spilled poetry #love poem #spilled words #my words #words words words #poets on tumblr #mine #tw violent imagery

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dancingpuppet · 5 months

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So I’m an angel, so I’m a saint, so I’m a priest, so I’m a spirit. Holiness crawls into you, just like a falling ceiling. Love sings

seven hundred miles away, in a small city, in a little place you and I would never find

the viscera, the heart-open skyline in. I don’t remember what a heart looks like. I don’t

know how a dove flies. But I never lifted the apple to my mouth for a bite. All I did was sit,

and I felt Sin build up like a kidney stone. And maybe you took the bite.

[Excerpt of a poem I have yet to finish... ahaha.]

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #grotesque #religious trauma #religious imagery #tw religious themes #quotes #love poetry #Ok maybe that's a stretch...#HAHA

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dancingpuppet · 5 months

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(a)gape

if only i were beautiful, so i cradle your heart in my hand and bring it to my mouth, slide it all the way down my throat. do you hear it? when my spine twists, splits all the way up through my brain, do you hear my synapses whisper, “it’s you. it’s you. it’s still you.” or do you just say, “that’s not me.” does that “you” exist? do you still remember the roof? the bedroom floor? the sunshine, the moonlight? the time when i flushed red, whispering, “i love you.” because now, you don’t say it back. now it’s the basement, under the bed, in the dead of the lightless night, my pallid face, glazed-over. you gouge open my stomach, and you pull your heart right back out. i never wanted to be beautiful, but each time you kiss me, i lose teeth from my smile.

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dancingpuppet · 6 months

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i wish i were beautiful so i

hold your bleeding heart in my hand

and bring it to my mouth,

slide it all the way down my throat.

do you hear it? when i cry

these silken tears, for it is

your skin? your skin. your

voice had always been woven

by a seamstress. i never

wanted to be beautiful.

but each time you kiss me,

i lose teeth from my smile

#original poem #poem #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr #poetry #poems #poetic #poets corner #poets of tumblr #spilled poetry #my words #words words words #spilled words #First draft ewwwwwww

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dancingpuppet · 7 months

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may God give you no choice in the matter

the sky will not fall if you beg it to, and screaming at your heart to

stop beating will only make it race like it doesn't see any red light.

you're part quicksand, you're of the sword in stone, a mouse's trapped, and your body is not of yours,

and every 7 years, you don't even feel anew, and every time a scab melts into your skin,

the scar will say mockery, for you are too weak, every

time. every time, you are wide eyes in the mirror, indefinitely unblinking.

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dancingpuppet · 7 months

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I Think That Everything Will Always Burst

Do you ever feel your heart teeming at the edges of your chest, aching—a sore infection?

Maybe this is only the art of when the heartstrings get pulled too far and your chest tears open.

It’s like a flood, or maybe like an opened cut, or maybe like the present you said you didn’t want.

And maybe your body, your blood, just doesn’t understand this all. And so the stitching of your heart aches and unravels

until you’re left a heap of turmoil. On the bathroom tile. By the foot of your bed. Buried in the chest of another.

And you still can’t find a cure. And all you are is your aching chest. And you’ll find that

your heart is its own cancer. But there is a question you must contemplate.

Is the heart malignant or benign?

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dancingpuppet · 7 months

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each bone (count: 270+) will crumble, and the surgical glue will not stop it

at the seams, see: it’s an open wound. being a thing terribly misshapen, not like your over-loved stuffed toy bear, instead, misshapen from crafting.

see: all my stitches rip apart, meaning: my stuffing falls into your hands.

how do your sweet hands handle this? you chose not to throw me out, not to tear me to pieces, but to squeeze me together. but no wound like me can close,

so my spilling stuffing stains crimson, distressing your details. yet you keep trying to scrape my blood from under your neatly rounded fingernails.

you’re guiltless. i’m guilty. seeing you, i wish my psyche were more sightly. may someone so sweet stay unwary of savagery like me.

my plea: despite my nature, ill-fated, will you rehome me?

i may never have a pure soul, but i will make you feel whole.

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dancingpuppet · 7 months

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"A Heavenly Body Shudders"

In your sight tonight a child crashes in the shade behind the shutters

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dancingpuppet · 7 months

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"Untitled (Without Any Words)"

I take a pen into my hand.

Smooth and steady. Uncreased. 70 sheets of paper. Creaking and crazed. Bleeding out. A half-empty bottle of sugar. I inject the pen.

A clattering of objects. The sky opens like a tearing page. My eye’s lens sees nothing but light.

Eight billion people. Sixteen billion pens, for each hand. I will never write enough.

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