she grabs the world by the wrists and surrounds herself with sharp things
she bloodies the creases of her eyelids and makes herself a crown out of childhood dreams,
links tongues over runny asphalt and night air. this world is cruel but she is crueller,
and trust me she takes pride in that.
she doesn’t care what you call her as long as you put miss in front of it-
there are slivers of her skin tied around prison bars
fire as rebirth
and the uttering of mother tongue under the breath to summon.
careful braiding of rice into the bases of braids:
the only name she answers to.
3 Comments
sunny.v
dude i loved lion! i absolutely repeated the heck out of it MAN. have you listened to Oh My God? i feel like there’s plenty to write about there too!!
silvernight
WHOA TWINSIES!!! kind of. i think. i wrote forsaken gods while listening to oh my god on repeat. there's something about idle's music that is just so [clenches fist], no?
Dmoral
"makes herself a crown out of childhood dreams,"
absolutely my favorite lines.