One of the best things I like about Winter is being able to wear my Winter jumper.
It’s big enough to wear as a dress and the sleeves easily cover my hands.
It’s vintage with Nordic patterns knitted in high quality wool.
His hand dives underneath my Winter jumper.
“Doesn’t it tickle?” he asks.
I contemplate his question.
“No, if anything it tingles like a multitude of needles brushing swiftly against skin. It’s a joyful irritation — a constant reminder that my body is still here and receptive to sensation.”
“Masochist”, I think to myself.
When I don’t wear a bralet the wool burns my nipples.
I often don’t wear a bralet underneath my Winter jumper.
Spring / Summer
And she said she’d always wear her round sunglasses ‘cause through those sunglasses the world was always dancing. And she swore to dance always through the naked fields clouded just by the sky. As I pressed his vein —bludgeoning, burning blue against the skin— my own veins resonated, electrifying the chords of my own body. In your starry eyes the universe lay reflected. Her breath swarmed over me, anoint me in a damp mist — sickly sweet of marshmallows, carbonated drinks and strawberries and cream. Intoxicated I lay down; a cotton candy clown.
And he said he’d always follow the sun ‘cause the sun sets forth life and never did he feel more alive than on the first days of Summer. Have you seen his bluebird? It hums softly in his stomach. Trapped, entangled in the guts. It sings the sweetest song for him only. His pores are a maze — through the cracks I can always find my way home. She crushes pearls in her milky hands, sipping oysters just for fun. He swore he’d catch me should I fall, and so he did and drowned me in an ocean of oysters, pearls and salted tears.
Autumn / Winter
And he said he’d take me to where the harvest moon shines the greatest. Under the fallen, tangled tango of the leaves. His blood streams a luminescent gold. I wish I could live forever in the butterfly house, where it’s always safe and warm and the fluttering of wings sing a most precious Summer hymn. A Dahlia flower blooms and dies, stretching her many arms wide across the seas. Her breath whistles softly with a scent of vanilla, rye whiskey and long lost romance. A multitude of tears began falling and swallowed me whole. With a sharp inhale I drink the sky of rose ‘till there is only a shroud of darkness left upon the world.
And she said there’s no need to be afraid of dying ‘cause dying is just a cycle and the world is eternally revolving in the deafening darkness of the imminent abyss. The cosmos is always creation, the sun now shines more brightly than in Summer. The world is crystallised, a fragmentation of the mind’s view in a thousand different directions. White harbours all the wavelengths of colours which shine through in a array of piercing macaroon, lilac and a cruel blue cold as stone. He pulled out his beating heart and buried it deep in the dry, warm viscera of the earth. Snowdrops hang their heads and sigh a gently cry — crows leap up towards the reticent sky. I touch the bark of trees and veins burn against the skin. As I breath a moist life into the air a robin whispers it’s hymn and dives into the dark hollow of my throat. His wings lift me up and I obliterate before the golden rays in the inky vaults of heaven where I rain born anew.
sad girl sings a lament for the dying
in a four-bit video game score
sad girl’s daddy was a bank robber
her mother was a whore
sad girl loves her drinks carbonated and sweet
hot like summer heat
cold like a rainbow coloured popsicle
everlasting love is always optional
sad girl never had many friends
strangles lovers before it ends
saves bumblebees from crowded city streets
joins food fights with factory farmed meats
sad girl’s hands once got pierced
it was an uneventful class of crafts
she remains unrecognised a saviour
getting fined for bad behaviour
sad girl’s revenge is served with microwavable tv meals.
whatever sad girl wants sad girl steals
t-shirts, jewellery, gems, a heart of gold
sad girl’s sticky fingers clutch, choke, and hold
sad girl hears of civil war and famine
goes on hunger strike
ethical diets are all the rage these days
how long to go before she fades?
sad girl runs but never screams
sad girl’s always sad it seems
they say she’s bad, she’s a sinner
she eats strawberries with cream for dinner!
sad girl kisses just to tell
rides endless rounds in the carousel
sad girl’s clouds are always cotton candy pink
tries to drown herself in an empty sink
sad girl was baptised in a bath of flowers
sad girl cries a bath of tears
bathroom tiles have razor sharp teeth
sad girl slips, falls — is not freed
sad girl goes to church every Sunday
‘cause the shops are always closed
steals the body of Christ, the bread from the priest
it’s the only thing she ever eats
sad girl made a crucifix of magnolia flowers,
raspberry leaves and screams
‘the mummified vulva of Magdalena is the only
relic to fulfil my devout needs’
sad girls fall and sad girls tumble
break both feet on painted marble
blowing smoke rings in the sky
envious of the wings of a butterfly
sad girl dyes her hair a shade of gangrene brown
Xanax doesn’t lift her constant frown
a missing beat in her 3D printed heart
a myriad of glitches necked her from the start
Nostalgic reminiscence paints a picture
sad girl always only knew
the second-to-safest road to school
she smiled to me and said
‘heck, maybe I’m just bad’
sad girl remains sad
Elegy of Two Pearls
a boy lay dying at the end of the road
the road is a sea, greatness beholds
green waves wash away traces
a future — untold
see God’s country in the dismal skies
foreshadowing a slumber of the mind
while she is breathing I can only die
life draws here yet distant, aside
two pearls stood the test of time,
cut down by a butter knife.