BACK ALLEY 15

By vangohs

8.7K 654 250

dying by day ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・no. 4 in poetry 11.20.20 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ © VANGOHS, 2020 More

i think i hijacked einstein's theory (i'm more feeling than spacetime)
human, being
######## don't kiss it better
american reflex
we call em track marks for a reason
NOAH, PT 2
trauma rot!
rules for scavenging
basking in the heat before i take a swim
despite nothing (a ghazal)
throw it back into the water
it's only love / it's only blood

jfnfnfdmdndndjdejfbbe (1:39 am)

1.5K 101 51
By vangohs

there's a few p-letter things i want to have on my ipad right now, and poetry is not one of them. i want porn. i want that softness, no bones, post-orgasmic state of being. pussy -- but don't fret. this entry isn't going to be about sex. it's not going to be about anything in particularbecause focus isn't something that comes anymore; i'm just existing, lately, feeling like i might be on the edge of something great or i might just slide right back down to where i was before. you know those huge boat rides at carnivals? the ones that swing back and forth on a fixed track? well, i've never ridden one, but i think if i did i'd feel this wonder sharp terror glee when it lurched forward, reached its peak, and i saw the rainbow flashing bustle stretched out before me and the city and the mountains surrounding. black pit suction rush pull as it plummeted back down. and i think i'd realize god. this is what my entire life has been.
lately, though, my stomach doesn't shoot into my throat on the downswing; i still feel like screaming, but i'm always too tired for it. the skin on my back is so thick that nothing really stings anymore. it's only when i trace the wounds and see the blood that i lose it. i sink back into myself, deeper this time, deeper every time i resurface to see the mutilation.
trust me. i wish i could have a soul naked and bursting flowers, but i'm going to have to wait to be vulnerable. sweat and skin will do for now. haze and screens and anything that stops me from looking down. this is more of a war than even i realize, and i'm keeping my heart tucked away like a lover's photograph.  i'll take it out too much. make it creased and grimy from my bloody hands. but one day it'll all go still, and i will find my way back. 

(i kiss the image of what was and say, i am coming home to you)

˚ ⋆。˚

man this book is just gonna be a journal okay there's gonna be a lot of tonal inconsistencies (aka going from porn to uh war torn soul + the self) and i don't care i just need to write again bc i miss it n i'm decent at it ok anyway love u if ur reading this i hope u have a good day and if ur feeling lost maybe this book will help u feel a little understood :( i hope

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