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tiffanylu posted an update 1 month, 4 weeks ago
cities, pt. 2
the city breathes smoke into the night,
ghosts lit through the windows of seedy bars
and other desperate places. her red lips
stretched in a wolf’s smile
are no consolation you can fathom.you find yourself in a crouch, knees collapsing
like brief empires.strangers with hollow eyes
cry emergency, beckon
for resurrection.here, filtering breaths through your hands,
every second spreads down your back
like a burning forest.no angels survive in war zones like these.
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tiffanylu posted an update 2 months ago
cities. signals. smoke. (amalgamation)
ii.
always hand to mouth, eating up the crumbs of your heart
that you vomit and swallow and vomit and repeat–he moves to the side, at the edge of the mess you lay in,
shoes and pants clean.the way his face stills is a filthy thing.
all you hear falling from the chimney of his mouth
is a steady litany of suicide notes, manic
encouragements.you could bury yourself in them.
i.
each day is a struggle. you say the sun will not wake with you.
lonely street lamps exhale steam through
a third floor window.you breathe it in like second-hand smoke, let it fill you
until you become a pile of ashes
rising to the ceiling.
a sorry imitation of a phoenix.iii.
“don’t you have anything to fight for?” he asks.
you nod yes. “myself,” you say,
but the one skewered on the end of your sword
wears your face,
smiling through a mouthful of blood.if you were still capable of it, you’d both be crying.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, signals 2 months, 2 weeks ago
always hand to mouth, eating up the broken crumbs of
your heart that you vomit and swallow and vomit and repeat–he moves to the side, at the edge of the pool you find yourself kneeling in,
shoes and pants clean as he yells manic encouragements. -
tiffanylu commented on the post, signals 2 months, 2 weeks ago
each day is a struggle. the sun will not wake with me.
lonely street lamps exhale steam through
a second floor window.i breathe it in like second-hand smoke, let it fill me
until i become a pile of ashes
rising to the ceiling.“don’t you have anything to fight for?” you say.
i nod yes. “myself”, i say, but the one skewered
on the end of my sword wears my face,
smiling through a mouthful of blood.if i were still capable of it, we would both be crying.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, knock 2 months, 3 weeks ago
a stranger comes by on a sunday evening,
trying to sell me the grace of God
with promises of love and fulfillmentthe pamphlets he hands me feel like
cheap napkins fallen off of diner tables,
the ones with neatly scrawled ‘call me’s,
an invitation to lonely bodies.i don’t know what i’m waiting for.
he adjusts his glasses.
genuinely: no miss, i can’t stay for tea,
i’ve got so many people to speak to
tonight. and i think, what is this new life
i’m supposed to find if i’m still standing
by the burner alone?i close the door on him when i can no longer
meet his eyesand even that is done without conviction.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, sanctity 3 months, 1 week ago
a refraction of light across the ceiling
smooth like prayers in a language you
don’t know how to speak.laying in the dark, hands still on your chest
pull loose threads until they give.breathe it in, the taste of tears
again in your saliva.(you could be looking at stars.
these are your stars.) -
tiffanylu commented on the post, think 3 months, 2 weeks ago
black tar rushes up my throat again.
i shut my teeth, but it leaks. it leaks, it leaks,
and my white dress, the one my mother gave me
when i once made her proud–
i feel the silk stick to my skin.i can’t think. the room is stifling
with the quiet of your arrival. it feels like loss.
my blackened smile is something hideous that you
force yourself to look at.you never asked, and i said too much.
my heart is running on black tar,
each beat a violation. -
tiffanylu posted an update 3 months, 2 weeks ago
when you play the piano your naked form shivers,
fingers slipping on each note, something of
a scream.your throat clenches around wool.
let it swallow your spit.
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the pill:
no one listens when you speak, not even yourself.
and the only ones who might hear your song
are the keys you are playing onbut even they have come alive
under better hands than yours. -
tiffanylu posted an update 3 months, 3 weeks ago
one day i’ll burn down my childhood home,
the one we sold over a decade ago
when i still thought crying
could change something.it is a tomb in my memories where i find myself
at night, running and running on
away from the demon i was sure slept under my bed.what i find in those dreams
is instead a box, empty save for photographs
of all our smiling faces.i want to burn it all,
the room with one window where i
used to daydream, where my mother tucked me in
every night with a tired kiss.at that time, the only ‘i hate you’ i knew
was in another language
and i had not yet started
saying it to myself.it won’t let me go, this place that has become
a fish bowl, a draw bridge, blank walls with no door.once everything’s ash, there’ll be nothing left to run away from
except myself.and i’ve long gotten used to that already.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, speak 3 months, 3 weeks ago
our conversations
lazy stretching into the dark
the sound of
getting to know myself again.words spill over the edge of your lips
something we won’t remember
but for faint watermarks left
on the coffee table.-
Beautiful.
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thank you. :)
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tiffanylu commented on the post, sound 4 months ago
my childhood was preparation for life without a father.
not in the way a hand clenches a photograph, or even
the tears product of divorce.
i don’t mean loss.but i am quiet now. i sleep quiet, speak quiet, cry quiet;
quiet burrowed in the pit of my stomach
and there was never anyone
to coax it out.when i was young, sometimes i’d walk downstairs on the balls of my feet,
eavesdropping on the hum of late night tv
and rumbling snores.i learned not to ask why my father slept on a couch
for seven years; why
he came and went from our dinner table
like an unplanned guest.our family photo albums aren’t empty
so much as they don’t
exist.this is what i mean by absence.
it is quiet, without the weight of
a bombshell. it is dust in the sunroom
where someone once sat
but has since forgotten. -
tiffanylu posted an update 4 months ago
notes to self:
little girls in nordic helmets, cheeks streaked with ash. the demon tapping your foot as you sleep. wild dreams. our distance measured in tugs on my skirt. once there was a boy i laughed with over umbrellas. art and artificiality. painted lips. testing the stretch and curl of the words in your mouth (spoken only with contempt). simple like the flatline of a heart monitor, gone silent when i looked away.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, promise 4 months, 1 week ago
every day we lived in some kind of fever,
bodies thrown against lockers
drawing blood with
conviction.history classes spent watching
taped documentaries–the worn faces
of american heroes, their stories, their sorrows,
but
excuse me
will this be
on the
test?high school wasn’t real life
and it didn’t do a damn thing
to prepare us either. -
tiffanylu posted an update 4 months, 3 weeks ago
my life is no different now than in childhood. i am still on my knees, foraging for beautiful things in the dirt: smooth stones, bright weeds, and any reason at all to live.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, soil 4 months, 3 weeks ago
my comfort comes from myself, words a hollow imitation of a warm hand.
like this i bury myself in the shallow earth. i am not happy, but i also
cannot breathe.
it’s all i have, and the closest i have found to peace.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, scatter 5 months ago
you’ve taken to filling your bed with flowers, the colors and scent
more alive than i could ever stomach.at night, the sheets fold around you like the lining of a casket.
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my eyes are sinking into my skull. my bones
sinking through the mattress, marrow leaking smooth.sinking, sinking,
i fear gravity will soon find my body
and fill my chest
with iron––a stone weight
at the bottom of the sea.i am forming pearls under my tongue.
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the shadows of my mother’s doorway rise out of the dark
like giants before the dawn.i fall asleep to your hushed voice
repeating love confessions to yourself.they sound like ocean waves
rolling against each other, racing to the shore. -
tiffanylu posted an update 5 months, 1 week ago
living, pt. 2
i watched the news this morning, wearing the blanket my mother had sewn for me so many years ago.
as if, like my mothers arms, i could hide away my eyes and cry loudly for myself.
we can’t think of today as 20 children dead but
a child,
a child,
a child,
a child,
a child,
a child,
keep repeating it until you realize
how much space they fill.then, until you realize
how many birthday candles will never be lit,
how many photo albums left unfinished,
how many best friends gripping one half of a necklace.i can’t stop thinking about it.
today i cried, ashamed of all the people i don’t talk to anymore, the first kiss i haven’t gotten yet, the school dances i’ve skipped, every single one of my mother’s smiles.
all this time i’ve been scared
and these children never had a choice.
that’s the saddest part of all. -
tiffanylu commented on the post, simple 5 months, 2 weeks ago
i know who you are
and i know how you get
sogo ahead
shoot
the messengeruntil he is not a he but
an it;
bones and blood and
bullet holes.funny, the effect a corpse has
on the way we speak.he should have run while he had the chance.
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tiffanylu posted an update 5 months, 3 weeks ago
it’s always the best parts of a person that fade first.
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too true. it almost hurts to think about.
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tiffanylu posted an update 5 months, 3 weeks ago
secrets aren’t secrets when they aren’t being kept from anyone.
i want to scream from the rooftop, in italics,
”I DON’T KNOW HOW TO STOP.”
but the rush of cars below is loud enough to drown out
even the blood in my ears.take two, softer now, ”i am fading.”
the words turn to dust on my tongue.(who could keep me found, is the real question.
but everyone knows a coward is a coward is a coward.)your eyes spot black when you speak. the line of your shoulders grieve for a girl you used to be, once. she had
crooked teeth and a penchant for
peach-colored dresses.the sensuous feel of anger wells up again,
licking in black strokes. i welcome the nostalgia. - Load More
hi
good grief, keep going!
i’m glad you like it :) you think i should continue and add to it?
yes!