casually cruel in the name of being honest

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viii. ladyfingers

CW (poem spoilered below):, gore & cannibalism, references to religion

Fibonacci poem, which is apparently a real thing? Never written one before but here we go :D

Spoiler

My

life

dangling

by a thread,

for your amusement.

You bring the knife to your lips and

lick the red blood off with your scathingly witty tongue.

My flesh has been parted, for you to feast upon for I think crimson rather suits you

You devour each part of my dying soul, leaving no crumbles as you meticulously slice me open to peer at my loving insides.

You are my divinity, shining brightly in the temple that is my body, let me adorn you in the finest jewels and watch as they glitter while you take me apart, piece by piece, sucking bone marrow out like candy.


If you think I was going above 55, you're insane because heck that would never end.

Edit: this was based on fanfic shenanigans. it was fun writing it lol
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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x. blame it on the dog (it only wanted your approval)

they told you to jump,
saying your wings would take you higher.
so you jumped,
and now you spiral down
on the wings of failure,
unable to scream
through the guilt
clawing at your throat.
(your fault, your fault, your fault.
you did not do it right, so it's your fault
that you fall)

they told you to run.
saying your feet would bear your weight.
so you ran,
and now you can scarcely walk
for you hold their disappointments on your shoulders
and their stories bleed from your heels,
leaking ink and dismay
on the well-trodden path
of their success, and your failings.
(your fault, your fault, your fault.
it's your fault that you are not strong enough
to hold the weight of their disappointment)

they told you to swim,
your lungs would be strong enough to keep you from drowning.
so you swam, despite the burdens they tied to your limbs
that dragged you down and down,
bubbles streaming
from your mouth,
and your nose,
as you try to scream
but cannot due to the guilt that settles there,
pressure on your lungs,
tying bricks to your feet
as the ocean called love
swallows you whole.
(your fault, your fault, your fault.
you should have tried better,
worked harder to keep afloat, it's your fault.)

you blame it on the dog,
who did every trick you asked of it
but it is the dog's fault,
that it was never taught how to do them properly.
so blame it on the dog
(it only wanted your approval.)
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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xi. me and you, you and me
silly little moon,
who could only ever love the sun.

greedy sun,
who forever coveted the stars.

mischievous stars, who led on the sun,
but could not stop from falling in love with the moon.

and lonely, lonely earth,
could not help but fall in love
with the ideas of them.

we,
as in you and me,
are like the sun
and the moon,
and the stars.
(even earth, in all it's loneliness,
but at least the earth
has the sky for company)

we fall in love with all the wrong people,
and can only watch as they fall in love with another
(who is not me, or you
and will never be you, nor me.)
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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Spoiler
Polt!! i have so enjoyed following along with your thread this NaPo :D you are the best horror poet that i know xD like "ladyfingers" is kinda gruesome but also fascinating lol, especially with the juxtaposition of gore and jewels/kind of a sense of reverence. and i can't help but feel for each character in "me and you, you and me". you have an excellent creativity and wit that shines through in your poetry!! fabulous job this month!!
mint, she/her


.--. / ... ...- -.-. .-.. / - .--. ..- .- / .--- --- ...- .--- / .--- --- .--. .-- / .--. .--- .-.. / .--- -.-- .-.. .... -
=D




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Spoiler
Ahhhh, that means a lot! I'm afraid I didn't get to write a lot, or as much as I was planning on (gosh dang sickness + parents) but I'm proud of the poems I got to put out :D glad you think i'm a good horror poet, i think the world needs more horror poetry/writing <3 you also did an amazing job with your napo, was super fun to see all the different types of poems!!!
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they



Russets and tangerine shades of old gold flushing the very outside edge of the senses ... deep shining ochres, burnt umber and parchments of baked earth—reflecting on itself and through itself, filtering the light.
— Guildenstern (Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard)