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Literature Text
i'll tell you, honey:
how to be a super villain in five easy steps. this is not like an empty mailbox,
this is tangible and real. one, you have to believe you are all-powerful, and
you do it like this ― you clench your fists until your nails bite into your skin like gripping a vine covered in thorns but you're doing this to yourself. if you have
the power to harm yourself you have the power to harm other people.
step two, you have to take those bloody palms and lay them all over the boy with the
autumn eyes and the thews of summer gold, stain his whiteness with red
and bite at his mouth until the edges of his teeth are flooded with the
same exact color.
everyone bleeds the same color, darling. when he begs you to stop, don't.
if you feel like stopping, don't. gnaw him to nothing.
step three, peel off pieces of his gorgeous skin and paste them to your own face;
feel what it's like to be beautiful and ugly and beautiful and ugly. if he's
still alive, ask him if he believes in god because if he does,
he b e l i e v e s in y o u.
step four, don't laugh. don't ever, ever laugh, but ask if he will because he always did
have a beautiful, contagious laugh, didn't he? don't tell him you once
loved him. it will destroy you, it will destroy you.
step five.
kill him and then whisper that you love him
into his half-open mouth and whisper that his
eyes are beautiful in his cold ear and then bury
him with these secrets.
it's all yours, sweetheart.
how to be a super villain in five easy steps. this is not like an empty mailbox,
this is tangible and real. one, you have to believe you are all-powerful, and
you do it like this ― you clench your fists until your nails bite into your skin like gripping a vine covered in thorns but you're doing this to yourself. if you have
the power to harm yourself you have the power to harm other people.
step two, you have to take those bloody palms and lay them all over the boy with the
autumn eyes and the thews of summer gold, stain his whiteness with red
and bite at his mouth until the edges of his teeth are flooded with the
same exact color.
everyone bleeds the same color, darling. when he begs you to stop, don't.
if you feel like stopping, don't. gnaw him to nothing.
step three, peel off pieces of his gorgeous skin and paste them to your own face;
feel what it's like to be beautiful and ugly and beautiful and ugly. if he's
still alive, ask him if he believes in god because if he does,
he b e l i e v e s in y o u.
step four, don't laugh. don't ever, ever laugh, but ask if he will because he always did
have a beautiful, contagious laugh, didn't he? don't tell him you once
loved him. it will destroy you, it will destroy you.
step five.
kill him and then whisper that you love him
into his half-open mouth and whisper that his
eyes are beautiful in his cold ear and then bury
him with these secrets.
it's all yours, sweetheart.
Literature
parentheses
i was going to ask you to hold back my hair
if i started to heave
but it's cut in mourning
for the fawns dying under the chalky
moist hands of children,
in mourning for newspaper print
threatening suicide off the tips of your eyelashes,
saying things like
i could fall faster
i could convert more
i could shine my face brighter than your sands
Literature
cacoethes.
your hands are hot-houses, built to
grow my skin (in).
rest your feet upon the snow, its cold and,
you're cold.
he says,
fly, sara,
fly.
a romantic can only learn romance from the stars.
so you learn how to fly.
but the carpet is too far away from
the sky.
fly, sara,
fly.
Literature
no turning back.
because they fit in ways that others don't.
your head falls into the crook of his neck and you feel that nothing can get to you now.
tracing the seam of his neck and jawline with the tip of your nose, you breathe.
and you're determined to break the speed of light and catch him by your fingertips.
because they'll survive the end of the world.
life exists in the simplest of things. when he kisses you, it pours down your throat,
into your lungs, and seeps out into your heart. all the gold in the world couldn't
tempt you away, because you'd rather be penniless than live without this boy.
because there will never be a forever, only a now.
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oh my god what is wrong with my head today, i exclaim.
© 2009 - 2024 injuredjaw
Comments10
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curious, brazen imagery. the tempo softens the harsh thoughts with melody.