the snow falls gently, underneath the streetlights. the orange glow spreads and the snow starts to spread and i spread my body across the lawn.
my words are frost-ridden, dispersing into the air with my breath. and i wonder how far they will travel.
a blanket of snow smothers me, starts to consume me, a dogpile that i am on the bottom of this time; and i thought that blankets were supposed to be warm (i think i was wrong).
the outlines of houses are highlighted by Christmas lights. and we drove for hours and hours and hours and some minutes--it's blurry.
i looked at all the decorations not bothering to think of what's going on inside.
and i looked at all the decorations that covered his body and invited me in, but i could never look him in the eyes. (i didn't want to look inside. his pupils were like black holes that sucked me in and i couldn't look away).
and i looked at all the clothes that covered his body and invited me in. (i didn't want to look at him in the eyes. his pupils were like black holes that sucked me in and i couldn't look away.)
if the present is a gift then you can keep it for yourself
i'll put a bow on it and wrap it in solid colored wrapping paper.
i don't want to wake up and run downstairs i thought Christmas was for giving gifts, but i see none in sight other than the bombs dropping in the sky. the spec in the sky that passes by isn't a sled led by reindeer and i tell her to go downstairs, "Devastation reigns, dear."
i don't want to have to spend another morning running downstairs to put my hands over my head in the corner of the basement. i want to watch it (rain) (reign). i thought that snowflakes were for Christmas but it only seems to be the blanket of white gauze, turning red, that covers all of the bodies with chests that no longer rise and fall.
i look outside and the snow is starting to melt and i hope that the bodies melt into liquid form with it. (i hope it takes all the dead bodies with it.)
summer days spent like coins; i hid them in my mouth but you could always see them hiding in my cheeks. i always spit them out like bloody teeth after a fight and you would collect your prize that lay on the hot sidewalk. i tried to save them but they always scattered, rolling until they made a complete stop. i wasted days with a candle in my stomach that started to scorch the walls of them black. i could feel the light flickering up and down my throat.
winter days wasted away. you were looking for someone to love and i was looking for someone to hate. i guess it fit. i said my silent goodbyes in subliminal messages; 'see you on the flip side' meant 'i know how you feel on the inside' and 'i'll miss you' meant 'i'll miss you'--i never got around to saying that
Missed a couple of days, so I might as well do the ones I haven't in one post to catch back up, was running on a sort of tight schedule.
Day 7:
the snow whispers in my ears before it parachutes to the ground. the bodies filling all the cracks in the sidewalk-- but only temporarily. and all the bodies will become one and they will all melt together, slither down the asphalt streets together, drip into the sewer drains together.
Day 8:
i told you that you were just another ornament on the Christmas tree, hanging on by a thin string and hollowed out of anything once there and you said that you knew.
I pray on the sports teams that I don't care about other than the money I've bet on them. I hope that the sky will spit snow out, throwing it up and that it will be more than just bile so I don't have school tomorrow. I wish that you won't try and call me while you're tipsy.
If snow was really a blanket then why can't I pick it up off the ground in one piece and put it somewhere else? And if snow is really a blanket then why is it so frigid?
living alone is like being in your own brain and the snow is starting to fall into the crack in your head and into the living room my thoughts travel like sounds off the walls-- i place buckets to keep the snow from staining the carpet but i don't know why i would, it's snow. i guess i'm just afraid of the cold staining the carpet so when you seep in through the space between the door and the floor be sure to take your shoes off.
I think today I'll let the water run from scalding hot until it is cold. I think I'll let the toast with only two bites out of it go cold and I will let my coffee sit long enough on the counter for a ring to form around the cup.
My heart will melt like a snowball left on the ground. My heart will condense into the palm of my hand as I squeeze anything that was once there out of it. And when I use it to hit you in the face it will shatter and you will only feel cold. (I guess it was worth it.)
Gender:
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