Never Go Outside

by Noise Pollution

There were these darkened streets
lit by the shivering
posts that were inconsistant
with how I wanted things to be
And there was this brave young man
and I tried so hard to stand
as his equal, as part of the plan
but eventually I ran

I saw his quaking arms
and how quickly they grew scars
I would be just like him
And so I took it on myself
And there were these age-old lines
along my feet and thighs
but they weren’t good enough
and so I dragged my eyes

across the surface of the skin

There was this winter chill
out on old Garbage Hill
with every light fixture
burnt out to fuel the thrill
They streched into the sky
and I knew that maybe I
If I really, really tried
could stretch out to be so high

and of course he quickly followed
there was less for him to lose
his cuts were deep and mine were shallow
but at least he could choose
I saw through crying eyes
A cute girl caress his thighs
was there something left for me?
These small things start to rise

out of the graves they were laid in

 

 

 

Do you ever write something, and realize you’ve learned something about yourself that you didn’t know before you started writing?

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