your body isn't a means to attain forgiveness by ohsostarryeyed, literature
Literature
your body isn't a means to attain forgiveness
it doesn’t have to be perfect;
it doesn’t have to be neat,
tied up, origami
in a soft little bow my body
is not a gift
for()giving.
my body is a home
that I don’t mind sharing,
it is a well worn bed
it squeaks, rusted springs
but it welcomes you home, I
welcome you home.
I don’t know how many flaws I have
but science tells me that if I stretched them
end to end,
they could wrap three times around
the immensity of the apology you say
with your flesh.
your skin doesn’t need to say sorry
for covering the stardust inside,
you don’t have to apologise
for taking up space
when you and space are made of the same
100 sunday crosswords by ohsostarryeyed, literature
Literature
100 sunday crosswords
this is a story of broken pieces
letting go feature by feature;
shattered pieces, ice rain,
and something blacker than sadness
turning from snowfall to knives
and the scarlet ground that follows.
this is about knowing when to stop
but never knowing the time.
because fingers snap louder in the cold,
they shiver and shake, shiver and shake
until the tremours turn to bone
and you feel it when they break.
a century's warning isn't enough to prepare for an earthquake;
a thousand years is still a blink when the last sinews
split.
there is nothing welcome about the open air
and how it bites your exposed skin,
its teeth sharpen and g
why jk rowling embodies depression as dementors by ohsostarryeyed, literature
Literature
why jk rowling embodies depression as dementors
i wanted to talk to you about happiness
but i don't think anyone in this room is qualified to talk about something
they probably don't know much about, and
how it spends most of its time
seeping out of your skin in whatever ways it can
because maybe your body is too toxic for it.
that's when you start having your moment.
the moment when you're not sure
how to be alive,
when strings become nooses
in the stars of your eyes,
thin objects mock your bones
and the instruments of your heart
act like knives thirsting for blood.
pavement shatters underfoot.
the cracks become teeth,
sharp and unfriendly as you pass;
they're grey, great