Sunday, November 29, 2015

The colors I bleed

as my painted nails curl into my palm

head bowed in shame
with eyes of glowing thunder

the depths of my heart
splayed on the table like rotten meat


my gut searches for a target for the rage
my heart knows nobody but me deserves it

so I sit alone, hurting nobody but myself
thankful for at least that

at least nobody is suffering by my hands
at least i can pretend so

for those who see something in me
there is no protection
only the me

overchill to compensate for the violence
anti-competitive to compensate with adrenaline

but these don’t counter the cruelty in my heart
there is no counter for cruelty of the heart

even when it manifests as self-care

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Raised Online

I'm pretty tired of hearing about 'Millennials' and how this ~facinating~ generation is \insert_generic_critique\. There are so many opinions out there about me, about my peers, while not even really listening to what we are saying.