|I tend to be very eclectic.|
You'll find many different themes, mediums, and genres in here.
But they're all beautiful and worthy of your attention.
lamiaher body is a cemetery landscapelamia by mothlets
hung gnarled like october trees
shaking loose in vast autumnal gales
fertile, haunted mother earth,
she whispers, fertile mother
mother of the tombs
fertile, haunted mother earth
but haunted by a barren womb
a birthmark to birth clots of blood
and sickly, bloodless sons
fertile for her monsters
and her ghosts
she hides when daylight comes
the huntedit pained her,the hunted by mothlets
like a lamb
from hungry wolves.
she had birthmarks
so unique, her bones ached
to escape her soul and cage,
but every mark of death
is what the animals were after.
Contradiction TWShe leapt from a window to fly for once, naked as she landed on the hood of a moving car. She had relished the secrets of every suicide attempt, slitting her wrists in a quiet sadness. Overdosing in a quiet sadness. Climbing the stairs to hotel roofs in a quiet sadness. Something haunted her in an unbroken breath of shadows; a perpetual deep inhalation that burned a vacuum inside her.Contradiction TW by mothlets
She leapt from a window to fly for once. I said, she leapt from a window to fly for once. She caused a crash in the middle of Times Square and died out loud like she never lived. Miseries grew heavy in her head and the pit of her stomach, and the volume inside her seeped through her sand swept skin from her hot, hot veins.
She used to cry often when she was alive and dug her skin open and sometimes she screamed with her head against the wall, and
she leapt from a window to fly for once, but she didn’t see the mistake.