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Underswap Papyrus :iconskyleryapper856:SkylerYapper856 1 0 Underswap Sans :iconskyleryapper856:SkylerYapper856 1 0

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Lackadaisy Love-letters :icontracyjb:tracyjb 5,365 402 What if Asriel lived :iconabsolutedream:AbsoluteDream 4,470 276 Candles of Hope :iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 19 8
Literature
Soft Shells and Buried Ships
Mind drifts in pieces
wax moon
drip drips
delicate veins of butter melt
pancake mix onto the pane of the window
as if bone marrow had been stirred and removed of its lumps;
my skull turned on its side and
down the side of the wall, wailing
across the floor to the soles
of my bare feet.
These are not tears, clear and translucent, but
thick and congealed with blood invisible.
Genetic recipe that called for essence of vanilla and deliquesce sugar
where rogue hands added instead a stealthy dose of cochineal
on the grubby wings of an unseen parasite feigning symbiosis to a host.
A dash of red gives rise - a butterfly blush to the cheeks
for ghost girls.
They said it would become me.
That boys don't favour alabaster.
Stains can stick to hands forever - shame comes in all sizes and hangs heavy on
shoulder blades
her coat-hanger bones will bend and bow like cupid's
and she will bow her spine to the floor
and how her proud relatives will learn that no matter how much calamine lotion they
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 30 17
Literature
Breaking Spells With Magic Coins
The slender everyman whispers sweet nothings and hollow
lies into the whirls of her ear - drum
                                            drum
                                                  drumming
promises of thinner air to wishbone ribs,
to house effortless birds, snapping shut -
grinding steel trap doors shut in the night
locked safe under the weight of sounds of silence
and layers upon layers of secrets built over years (scurrying from light).
Sleeping bound; worlds crushing mattresses as soft as
pillows alone, but stacked: heavy enough to hush bone
and draw blood as deep as a wine bruise the colour
of a stone on a bed,
sleeping with silver fish and mermaids at
the bottom of the ocean under the moon.
Carrying the weight of dust motes and ske
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 16 7
Literature
Shroud
I want to cut out my organs
proffer them up, beating and red
dirty pretty things lying
still as death, wrapped in silk.
Milk teeth white with secrets
stark bone,
hollow with regret - one breath
exhaling fingernails; crescent moons,
luminescent with guilt, dressed
in sorrow desperate for utterance.
The stuttered sounds of eyelids shutting in the night
lungs filled with candlelight and silver flash
gash lips useless and stained with so much unsaid.
Silent epitaphs treading words
as heavy as a grave
the weight of a hole
that malignant,
spreads.
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 22 8
Literature
Affect, Skittish, Schizophrenia
Schizophrenia; a splitting of the mind. A snow globe that shattered, splintered, razor sharp glass breaking into shards.
Bipolar; two sides. Shifting sands. Extremes, chaos, pain, nerve endings white hot with blue flames of agony. Two poles, two hemispheres. One fathomless and dark, one burning with the liquid magma sun light of galaxies inside my bones, burning up into a black hole, eating itself alive.
Brain; two halves. Long division of two lobes, one soft pink globe, split through the centre.
Night and day, day and night.
One zygote that divided into twins; her, and I. I first split in the womb. I’ve been splitting my whole life.
I am simultaneous; both sides of the same coin. When I first attempted suicide, I was trying to unite into one absolution; nothingness. The argument is always the same – heavy and laden and irrational and rational all at once. “If you truly loved us, you’d fight to stay alive.” But the reverse rings weightlessly and unu
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 42 13
Contraband: Searching Within Schizophrenia :iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 9 0
Literature
Hospital Poetry: Hayley's Comet
“What’s happening?”
“Hayley went off like a Christmas cracker.”
Eyes agog. Silence; a blank pop in the hubbub of cheery chatter, before the inevitable –
“A what?”
“You know – a Christmas cracker. Went off. Had another seizure!” Impatient patient stamp of the slipper.
“Ohhhh I get it. Uh… festive.”
“Ha ha ha. Ho ho ho. Very merry.”
Dasher and Prancer sly eyes and Vixen smiles.
I tug uncomfortably on my NG. Bad taste bubbling into every periphery.
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 4 0
Literature
Hospital Poetry: Feasts of Hope
We are two skeletons hugging
silhouetted bone
against bone
against rib.
Painted fingertips matchsticking to
chopstick wrists,
slotting in to Jenga-brick-towers of
sadness and
all-the-King’s-horses.
We fall
Down
into darkness and despair,
far from rooks and men.
High in ivory babels of our own making –
lofts from whence we locked
innocence and ice princesses away in infancy.
Unlearning how to bear pain
how to feel and what it means for hearts to crack and melt
bleed, and heal.
We are afraid
Of those gentle white Humpty egg rows of
pearls in our fallopian webs;
Precious dew dropping, hush! to our thighs.
Soft, gelatinous constellations in our wombs –
a dress-up that doesn’t fit;
a play for which we lack curves and cues
(settling instead for NG tubes).
We are sick to death of breadcrumbs and witches' lolly-cooked houses;
sticky-sweet in the dark -
creeping traps hoping to snare us in bone cages and
feed us up plump enough to eat
(Mickey-Buttons in place of chocolat
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 8 0
Recovery Lollies :iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 9 8
Literature
Hospital Poetry: Half Moons
Our favourite nurse brings us
nail polishes gift-wrapped
on Christmas day
to brighten up the white-washed crescent beds
of our hands
that limply
match the pale walls of the ward.
I choose silver stardust
reminiscent of tinsel
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 46 18
Literature
Hospital Poetry: ECG
Paintbrush vials striping sunlight from the window
liquid neck, swollen body pale and rounded
loose pill seeds spill like snow.
Fingers tracing skin into velvet
violet phosphate bruises the colour of a fig
The dark hollow crooks of oxide eyes shadow cheekbones
standing rapt to attention like silver tin soldiers.
Fugitive exposed in artificial lights
shrinking strangely, belly full of secrets in the disquiet,
tongue romancing the edge of an unreliable knife.
She is made from earth, rotted organic soul and lungs filled with loam
funeral urn in her mouth, holding the softened embalmed heart turning to paint
a dark reddish brown.
Stretched naked on a bed, with wires testing her pulse across a page
lips dewed with saliva on skin, like the alibi path of a snail
she becomes luminous in the fluorescent light,
body an unfamiliar home curled on her mind’s back
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 11 6
Literature
Hospital Poetry: Medicated
Pills trespass fairy weights on her tongue
a sweetness that is darkness too,
in the night they germinate and bear fruit
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 10 3
Literature
Little Girls Lost
Slow scissor strokes cut the canvas corsets from our waists
laces slack and curling over hollow cheekbones to wasted insides
tubes pouring food from doctors in white administering medicine
pink heads blurred in a bare room that barely holds conversation.
Naked lips with lullabied tongues too sleepy to curl over sweets and
remember childhood
dark wine blots discolouring slender necks with sluggish swan feathers in blue
a patchwork of uncirculated blood.
The mirror whispers its distorted curves in the lamp light
and unthimbled fingers are pricked to check blood sugar
instead of spinning wheels.
We sleep for a thousand years
spool threads of hair falling loose, to masted shoulders
a chandelier of sadness and little girls lost.
Imagining bodies carved in marble or stone
translucent in the twilight with veins of quartz
cloth filled mouths make for heavy skulls in so much silence.
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 14 5
Literature
Bound in White
Breathing in the scent of stars
gauze and Betadine and
decaying souls.
the florid notes of hope
linger in doorways
ground shut on the back stairs
a two-at-a-time descent.
:iconRosary0fSighs:Rosary0fSighs
:iconrosary0fsighs:Rosary0fSighs 8 2

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SkylerYapper856
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:iconskyleryapper856:
SkylerYapper856 Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2017
You're all welcome
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:iconhowmanydragons:
HowManyDragons Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2017
Hey, thanks so much for the watch! Huggle!
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:iconcapndeek373:
CapnDeek373 Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2017  Professional General Artist
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:iconhestia-edwards:
Hestia-Edwards Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2017  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you for watching me. :)
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:iconspiritofdarkness:
Spiritofdarkness Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2017
:party: welcome on DA

and thanks a lot for the :+devwatch:  :iconballoonplz:
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