ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
It is like my skin cannot contain me
Like every fear and every secret
Churns and hammers and rages
Just beneath my shoulder blades
And the worn-out hollow
At the base of my throat
And I am stretched so thin
That only a fragile membrane
Stands between my heart
And how its every beat would be written
Into the translucent skin of my wrists
If it weren't so firmly caged behind my ribs,
If I hadn't already made that mistake
Of wearing my heart on my shirtsleeves once before.
I think sometimes
That I might be tearing already
Unraveling at those very seams
That I'm trying my hardest to hold together
So that when you ask me
If there's something wrong,
I'm beginning to indulge
In a short pause where
I don't meet your eyes.
I look down instead,
And for a brief moment,
I let that small, private pain
Pass across my face and
Press against my lips
I'll push it back, though
Because I need to prove to myself
That my skin is not so fragile as it seems
That I'm not as vulnerable as I feel
That I am capable of hiding my secrets,
And my fears
And every alkaline lie that tears at my bones
With enough practice, I might really believe it—
That there are no tears
That there is no hurt
That there is nothing aching to rip through the frail defenses that have been so battered down each time I tell myself no, no, no.
That really,
"Nothing's wrong,"
Like every fear and every secret
Churns and hammers and rages
Just beneath my shoulder blades
And the worn-out hollow
At the base of my throat
And I am stretched so thin
That only a fragile membrane
Stands between my heart
And how its every beat would be written
Into the translucent skin of my wrists
If it weren't so firmly caged behind my ribs,
If I hadn't already made that mistake
Of wearing my heart on my shirtsleeves once before.
I think sometimes
That I might be tearing already
Unraveling at those very seams
That I'm trying my hardest to hold together
So that when you ask me
If there's something wrong,
I'm beginning to indulge
In a short pause where
I don't meet your eyes.
I look down instead,
And for a brief moment,
I let that small, private pain
Pass across my face and
Press against my lips
I'll push it back, though
Because I need to prove to myself
That my skin is not so fragile as it seems
That I'm not as vulnerable as I feel
That I am capable of hiding my secrets,
And my fears
And every alkaline lie that tears at my bones
With enough practice, I might really believe it—
That there are no tears
That there is no hurt
That there is nothing aching to rip through the frail defenses that have been so battered down each time I tell myself no, no, no.
That really,
"Nothing's wrong,"
Literature
read this without breathing
Don't call me beautiful.
This isn't some over the counter form of self-deprecation. It's truth in a full-informed prescription. Maybe you've figured this out by now and I'm wasting my words telling you, but darling, I'm an acidic mess and I promise I'll burn holes through your best intentions. Read this as the label marked "warning." Or maybe I'm a battlefield and honestly, blow by blow, you're killing me. But usually, I'm simply a one-way road that dead-ends at your doorstep and I'm crashing into you.
I swear we do the worst things to each other in the worst and most nonsensical ways.
Don't pretend I'm clever.
I'm just recycled words fro
Literature
reality?
You want me to save
The person you all see;
I'm dying to save
The girl I'll never be.
Literature
we're never what we think.
at least twice a day, i find myself wishing i was less.
less of a worrier.
less of a lover.
less of a mess.
all of this would be so much better, if the disconnect between
what i want and what i have would close because then things
would be simple for the first time in years. and i could inhale
without wondering what kind of consequences it will have five
minutes from now. you can only imagine what really goes
through my mind in the time it'll take you to breathe in and
out. now hold it. like i've been holding this thought for months—
the girl i was is quickly vanishing.
i've been holding it like a secret on the tip of
Suggested Collections
"She was realizing for the first time in her life what agony it was to experience unquiet beneath an impeccable veneer,"
Or also,
"... Until your insides are out, your outsides are in, your entrails will become your extrails I will w-rip... all the p... ung. Pain, lots of pain!"
Either way, it's tiring-- being such a happysad lonely unhappy private person.
Stupid battery-acid lies.
Or also,
"... Until your insides are out, your outsides are in, your entrails will become your extrails I will w-rip... all the p... ung. Pain, lots of pain!"
Either way, it's tiring-- being such a happy
Stupid battery-acid lies.
© 2011 - 2024 o-ohhai
Comments70
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I've felt this way...
so beautiful!
so beautiful!