| ✰ | Poetry Maybe

[woes]

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Poetry, descriptive writing, and everything in between.
Comments, marks, and critiques are welcomed.
Pm me if you need anything (tws, requests, etc).

You came alone, didn't you?
You've forgotten your coat.
The trees are looming over you,
casting their long shadows.

They don't look real.
Nothing looks real.

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Vaguely connected pieces

|| You fawned over a fox

i. ii. iii. iv. v. Fin.

|| Exploring immortality

i. ii. iii. iv. v.

|| redacted

[woes]

I'm sorry, darling.
I'm sick and I know it's my fault.
Will you think lesser of me
if I get better?

Will you hold my hand
when I say goodbye?

[woes]

She was upset with you.
You still can't remember why.
She threw her lamp and torn your dress.
Tears fell to the cold stone floor.

She ran into the forest, escaping you.
Sick to her stomach and vomiting sorrow.
You desperately tried to feel something.
You couldn't find it in yourself to care.

This was your fault, but you felt nothing.
And when you found fox teeth on your pillow
you tossed them outside like the bitter memories they were.

[woes]

You stared at the creature with thinly veiled disgust.
It reared its ugly head and glanced at your soul.
The poor thing cowered, curling into itself.
It didn't like what it saw.

You'd had enough of this, enough of the beast.
You took its eyes and left it a soulless wanderer.

[woes]

You loved her with all of your black, hideous heart.
She loved with with what little hatred she could muster.
You were tired.
She was loved.

You tried to get closer to her, to see who she was inside.
She hid behind her friends, tripping over her words.
You were hurt.
She was wounded.

You asked if she loved you.
She tried not to reject you.
You hated her.
She pitied you.

You realized your mistake, gave her some space.
She took this as a goodbye, not looking at your face.
You wanted to go back.
She wanted it to be over.

You apologized with bird skulls and deer teeth,
yet she never came back.
You gave her your heart in the shape of an antler,
yet she didn't want you back.

[woes]

The accident was your fault,
but you felt no pity for those involved.
You sit in your hospital bed, limp and tired,
and refuse to see your own fault.

You destroyed their lives, ruined their futures.
They had families to raise, jobs to complete.
You had nothing, so you took everything.
Now you're immobilized, stuck with just thoughts.

But they aren't the thoughts you would have expected.
You don't feel self-pity or regret.
All you want, all that you need in this very moment
is another drag of that cigarette.

You're a hollow shell of a human being.
You go through life with no feeling.
And when someone finally puts you in your place,

keep inhaling that gaseous apathy.

[woes]

The gift was earnest, but you felt uncomfortable accepting the teeth.
You knew what those sharp, stained canines meant.
A painful love long forgotten, the drug of giving and taking.
That beautiful exchange you could never refuse.

You scatter them across your nightstand, right beside your bed.
They don't belong there. The thought keeps you awake at night.
Every morning, they lie under your pillow, catching on your stretching fingers.
They bite at the ring-less digit. They resurface those buried memories.

Fox teeth are disgusting souvenirs, reminding you of all you hated in life.
And if you pulled out her photo, tears gathering as you gazed at those sad yellow eyes and pointed ears,
well
That was no one's business but your own.

[woes]

You came alone, didn't you?
You're shivering. You forgot a coat.
The trees are looming over you, casting their long shadows.
They don't look real.
You pause.

You didn't come of your own free will.
A dream forced you here, tugged at your feet.
A heavy breath clouds against your shoulder, sending shiver through you.
You don't look back.
Keep going.

The trees are blurring together.
Are you running? Walking? Maybe you're-
Where are you?
What are you doing here?
You're shaking.

A strong smell covers the area.
It steals away your fear. You feel physically lighter.
Your mind clears, your feet start moving again.
You felt you lips tug upwards into a smile.
You're... happy.

You should have turned back when you had the chance,
but you pushed onward towards the smell of honey and rot.

[woes]

One day I will be gone.
I will leave you with shattered antlers
and tanned fox teeth.

I want to say goodbye,
before I go.
Before I give you your gift.

I want you to keep these.
Hide them away,
keep them safe.

I want my memory to live on.
For it to hurt
when you think of me.

I want to leave a bitter taste
in your filthy mouth.
That sour pain of hatred.

And one day, you will be gone.
And they'll find those teeth
and those shattered antlers,
and they'll know.

They'll know everything.

[woes]

Something's wrong.
You're uncomfortable.

You shift a bit in your seat, but it's no use.
You feel like something is grossly off with you.

Is this your skin? Why does it feel foreign?
Are these your teeth? They don't taste the same.
Why are you shaking? Are you ill?
You... you feel sick.

But not that kind of sick.

What's wrong with you?