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I keep myself awake as the tap-tip pit-pattering flicks of water, wash noise and banter, beckoning on glass panes and washed windows begging for my loving answer

sad patterns of mad hatters that pay no peace of mind to sad matters, rips and pokes at bellies and hopes convincing me to feel the ladder

But all and all, I stay enthralled, for calls that do not stick on walls, because what is man but for what they stand, and all they do not offer.

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Im tired of loving from a distance. My vulnerabilities picked and chosen from a catalogue of what I can give and lose instead of what I can share and would be embraced.

Like a dance of war, each step I take is prepped with counter measures ensuring safe retreat.

Im not opposed to being let down by those I love, but with you I am dropped like dead weight upon a bed of spikes

And so now I stand for myself, in a cold fortress, for you have salted my gardens time and time again.

Yet you still claw at cobble walls pan handing for the embers of my heart. Id rather feed you the salty silt that ive yet to sort from snap dragons and sweet peas.

My coldness will be kinder than kindling you've smothered. Merry Christmas, for I am my own mother.

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Tonight I Dream of You.

a body rests on a plain of silk; within, a virus festers and breeds.

one such creature, the host, plays willfully ignorant. attempting to be indifferent to the consequences. "the chill of fever is burning hot compared to the frost of my own company" one thinks. "I am all that remains of clouds in space made of emerald, and the very star which you orbit." remarks the virus, yet the host is silent. "I am all that is left of the scum you pick off of the wall like an addict, enough for you to indulge yourself" another comment is made. this time the host lets out a bothersome sigh. "are you suddenly more than me? I am that which made you rise, kept you safe, I am all that encompasses the kiss that slides throughout your throat so lovingly, and you dare treat me like sin? Dare to hurt me the way you hurt them?" the virus says with a barbed tongue "You are neither them nor the love that I left" The host bleeds out meekly. "Then WHY must you cage me dear abuser? if you are too cowardly to kill that in which you declare you are above, then why not allow me to relieve you of such decisions?" declares the virus. No Response is given, merely an averted gaze. the two lovers orbit indecisively for one more night.

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Lover you haunt my dreams still.

I crawl by my worn down hands to escape you and yet you will always infect my mind, I feel as if my last result is a scalpel, my last thought before bed had been of you. Is It my own fault for letting you in? I think it is merely the work of my imagination, but my mind swears that it was your touch upon my back that I felt.

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I see myself in every frothing body whose throat melts through their chest, I see my shadow as a pest to be choked and poisoned and stomped on.

What worth do I have what right do I have to scurry and convulse every time my nervous system senses pain?

Why cant it be easy to bleed and hurt why does the body bite the conscious

I am a mongrel who chases his own tail only to yelp when it snaps off in my maw

Bad dog.

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I understand the fear of witnessing death

nothing more violates comfort than the thrashing feeling of pain. You scream so loud it triggers a primal fear worse than eyes from the darkness in me. You jerk back and forth gripping hard enough to lose nails, and you fight and you fight until the fight gets deconstructed by the very atoms it holds dear and dissipates into nothingness leaving a beautiful husk born again to earthly plane, yet no trace of what defined 'you'.

Meat was not born to think, thinking is the responsibility of fungus and machine but meat? Beings of object and consumption. festering mobile sacks of fat and protein. All but one. One creature unfortunate enough to know that it is food upon which immortal beings of earth and plant feast on.

We are such beings, me who holds bloodied stone and you who lies bleeding we are no different

We are when we should not.

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I wish existence came without the burden of guilt

It is now within my final moments that I crave the warmth that even the very sun has failed to love me with

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Go follow ant.pony on tiktok (THIS IS A REPOST)

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Owls beckon like a jury, judging from afar.

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And from you divinity? Keeper of fate, from whom I hang to like child and mothers chest, why do you now kneel upon my chest, pushing every last wind from this hollow body o' mine; it seems as if no matter how many times I waltz in passion with the fragrances of life we find ourselves in fashion to a supposed end.

How long do you intend to plague me with this injustice? Woe am I, he who labors for a den of wolves.

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Today I woke up at 4:27pm.

The rain finally came and I slept through it, dreaming of people who are hardly part of my life these days.

Ill try to go back to sleep to see faces that bring me comfort but I've always been better at staying asleep than falling asleep

So instead ill sit at a park bench and let the leftover wind from my beloved rain, bitter my face with fake drops as I get so high that I can't tell whether or not its raining or if im just wet.

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Recently my days are more nights and my nights are more mornings spent in a coffee shop before the break of dawn.

The rain has yet to come and cement my mood something I keep yearning for and ultimately get let down by; a common development in recent days.

Maybe its a problem with my expectations, or maybe some day I will learn to find friends and the weather more reliable than my music and a pack of cigs

Either way I drag myself on. Etc etc.

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The other night I heard you were in the area. Your aunt said something along the lines of visiting your parents

I personally think it was to see your cat and then maybe your parents. Regardless, you're close enough to be in my life again and I felt scared.

I immediately started fantasizing delusions of you, perhaps on a drunken night when I wander the streets, a habit of mine on such nights, I find solace in the figure that lays in the dark playing the street piano, only to recognize all the songs as our songs, and its then when you look into my soul and find me as vulnerable as you left me.

A rich emerald gaze bleeds silk into my body smoother than any smoke.

Or alternatively you find me by the fountain where we had one of our first dates, only this time im with a new potential lover. (their idea for the date location not mine) I imagine your face cracking before me falling apart and shattering into a bazillion little scrunches just as I had come to know time and time again. Or worse off you stop before me in shock before turning to hopeless content realizing my heart truly does not belong to you, then as quickly as you arrived you leave, once again having me assume the worst.

You always seemed happiest when you put death at your doorstep, I preached and prayed like a child of god, but much like god you never answered, the only "advantage" I ever had in such situations was my body.

Many times have I drawn blood in the presence of your unrelenting cries, my skin still remembers the feeling of ornate cast iron fence toppers as they greet my ribs and knees, and my spine still remembers the chilling sight of dirt breaking apart on jagged rocks and being washed away by waves that jumped at us like starving dogs 40 feet below.

You were in my arms at that moment and that was all that had mattered but you were hollow, crying to me as I marched your lifted frame back into the padded cell that was my bedroom. The warmest thing I had felt that night was when you fell asleep and I had torn off the bandages you put on my ribs and let the blood trickle down my sides.

All of this still lives with me when I think of you. Maybe I have been too harsh, there's a lot of joy that comes with the idea of you coming back into my life but equally as much fear. Fear of my own failures, fear of your wrath or worse your undying love, and most especially fear of the truth that came with change

The truth that im no longer the person who I said I was, and that I will never be the person I say I am because to be healthy is to grow and to grow is to change and to change, feelings or otherwise, was always your greatest fear because every change you had experienced had only hurt you, and I, more or less unintentionally added to that.

I have since then learned love to be conditional, for you still have my heart in many ways but conditionally its better for us to be apart.

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Marceline Served cunt so hard in this episode

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I have a mouth yet I cannot scream, shame defies nature and denies me of my most carnal urges

For all my life this body has been one of presence, I not only want to be, but I must be known, be heard, from the moment worms such as I crawl from wombs we demand the world knows us, yet I sit denied like a reprimanded dog

Ashamed to scream, worried of perception, what makes a beast such as I tamed and tied to this post?

It will never merely be enough for me to simply bark, for I must become the master, thee who demands and I must reprimand man as he is now my pet, nay, he is but a tool for I to wield.

A sword in my hand in which I cut the path of restitution for fellow beasts who whimper as I once had.

All must bear witness for now I am my own god, thee who demands thee who screams

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Recently my skin has felt tight on my wrists, and that familiar tingling from when I was 13 seems to creep in my veins.

I've been thinking about a lot, probably too much and it seems that everyone notices the smell of smoke bitter off of my hoodie, yet no one says a thing.

Maybe im paranoid. Ive been having the same dream, where I lie in the grass field near my house in the middle of the night when all of a sudden the surrounding houses turn their porch lights on and black figures stare me down from the windows.

I've had a cough for the past two weeks and the only times I see the sun is when its rising or when its setting.

Inside me a smouldering coal dies burried in a slurry of mud and ice

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