zuihitsu attempt #1
Jul. 7th, 2025 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
weepingcrabthe roar of a plane, “pineapple cake!” i want to whisper into the microphone. most days i lay in the same curled up fetal position, on top of my bed but not under it. most nights i fall asleep with hot tears rolling down my apple cheeks, staining the gray satin pillowcase.
it’s disturbingly easy. i tell him i want to be with him forever in one breath and in the next i consume dubai chocolate through a screen.
copy paste my life!!!!! :/
my legs were covered in bruises when i got back from new york. i bruise easily. i told my mom i was covered in bruises. i wondered if my mom bruised easily from sex too, if she once had legs covered in bruises, and wondered herself if sex was the cause of mine.
some guy on reddit said to be more patient. some guy on reddit said that men will never change. some guy on reddit said that you felt nothing before you were alive, so you’ll feel the same nothingness after you die. some guy on reddit said to use a lot of spit and look him in the eyes. some guy on reddit said if you’re making endless personal concessions you might have abandonment issues.
i am allegiant to your cruelty; yet my hardened heart, it still gushes rivers. not all beauty leads to god. i am a slave to my desire. will you kiss me on your way out?
isopod care instructions: attention, attention, and more attention. substrate is necessary. be careful; if you leave them unattended, they will proliferate exponentially.
i had lost my appetite; the butterflies turned sour. yellow cocoons of benjamin’s silkworms, spoiled milk turned into moths, the butterfly’s ugly cousin. we raised them every year until it got old.
can you kiss me while i cry scorched earth rains? for a long time i stood with your kiss upon my brow, but that way lay madness–i never could replace the emptiness you left me with, stumbled by the doorstep where your shoes would lie.
it is the 18th day of summer, or so i calculated. i once again neglected to feel the sun on my skin, but in the shower i noticed my legs seemed a darker shade of brown than usual.
these are not fire-breathing butterflies; they are cicadas crawling around in my chest, a deep rumble, waiting to emerge.
it’s disturbingly easy. i tell him i want to be with him forever in one breath and in the next i consume dubai chocolate through a screen.
copy paste my life!!!!! :/
my legs were covered in bruises when i got back from new york. i bruise easily. i told my mom i was covered in bruises. i wondered if my mom bruised easily from sex too, if she once had legs covered in bruises, and wondered herself if sex was the cause of mine.
some guy on reddit said to be more patient. some guy on reddit said that men will never change. some guy on reddit said that you felt nothing before you were alive, so you’ll feel the same nothingness after you die. some guy on reddit said to use a lot of spit and look him in the eyes. some guy on reddit said if you’re making endless personal concessions you might have abandonment issues.
i am allegiant to your cruelty; yet my hardened heart, it still gushes rivers. not all beauty leads to god. i am a slave to my desire. will you kiss me on your way out?
isopod care instructions: attention, attention, and more attention. substrate is necessary. be careful; if you leave them unattended, they will proliferate exponentially.
i had lost my appetite; the butterflies turned sour. yellow cocoons of benjamin’s silkworms, spoiled milk turned into moths, the butterfly’s ugly cousin. we raised them every year until it got old.
can you kiss me while i cry scorched earth rains? for a long time i stood with your kiss upon my brow, but that way lay madness–i never could replace the emptiness you left me with, stumbled by the doorstep where your shoes would lie.
it is the 18th day of summer, or so i calculated. i once again neglected to feel the sun on my skin, but in the shower i noticed my legs seemed a darker shade of brown than usual.
these are not fire-breathing butterflies; they are cicadas crawling around in my chest, a deep rumble, waiting to emerge.
