AMBIGUITE
By Miranda Blankenship
Depressed. Not deeply. Just somewhat. Holding myself. It's the loneliness, come to taKe me home. Evening struck me like the table turning round. I'm not freaking out anymore, so used to falling down. fermented. fruit flies flailing. summer sun kissed babies. waking up with all my clothes on. sweating from some insecure nightmare. Where has my passion for death gone? No one can tell me anything I don't already know. Wanna hide in a tree house with a little pixie dust. Just stay so high, no one can ever find me. Fatal.. I am fatal. You can take a couple of spoonfulls of me with some powdered sugar. Poisonous. Fire in the soul. Keep on picking, till there's nothing left. Of Me. November, wishing it were. Cloudy and cold and dead like my soul. when do the nightmares stop? When does the self loathing subside? Feeling fat again now, just looking at my face. It's imperfection, and I hate that I can't change. it. So full of love for the dead ones I miss.. and the one's so far from me now. My roots. My life I left behind. Not happy here, but never was happy there. Again, waiting around. For something to happen, when there was never anything. Some miracle? Where is the life I was promised? So, is this it now? Waiting to be chosen for something. Holding on today. Pretending there's something for me. I don't want to be with anyone, but I don't wanna be alone. It's always been in my nature to Hide. Pale, statue-like. Frozen ambiguity. pursed.Let me go back to that Night. Mirror. Dreaming something deadly. Spider-webbed. Dreaming something calming. No. Not. Heart-racing.
It is time.
By Miranda Blankenship
Depressed. Not deeply. Just somewhat. Holding myself. It's the loneliness, come to taKe me home. Evening struck me like the table turning round. I'm not freaking out anymore, so used to falling down. fermented. fruit flies flailing. summer sun kissed babies. waking up with all my clothes on. sweating from some insecure nightmare. Where has my passion for death gone? No one can tell me anything I don't already know. Wanna hide in a tree house with a little pixie dust. Just stay so high, no one can ever find me. Fatal.. I am fatal. You can take a couple of spoonfulls of me with some powdered sugar. Poisonous. Fire in the soul. Keep on picking, till there's nothing left. Of Me. November, wishing it were. Cloudy and cold and dead like my soul. when do the nightmares stop? When does the self loathing subside? Feeling fat again now, just looking at my face. It's imperfection, and I hate that I can't change. it. So full of love for the dead ones I miss.. and the one's so far from me now. My roots. My life I left behind. Not happy here, but never was happy there. Again, waiting around. For something to happen, when there was never anything. Some miracle? Where is the life I was promised? So, is this it now? Waiting to be chosen for something. Holding on today. Pretending there's something for me. I don't want to be with anyone, but I don't wanna be alone. It's always been in my nature to Hide. Pale, statue-like. Frozen ambiguity. pursed.Let me go back to that Night. Mirror. Dreaming something deadly. Spider-webbed. Dreaming something calming. No. Not. Heart-racing.
It is time.
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...and that will be inked on me too. Why are u so alone? What isn't occurring that should be?
keep in touch
dc