Oblivion Without A Question Mark

My name's Aurora.
Someday, someone's going to know me by my words, not my name.
I'm trying.
Personal blog: indubitably-or-cellardoor.tumblr.com

The Last Day Of Illusions Before The Magic Begins

Sometimes she forgets
That fire brings light
Always closing her eyes
She liberates herself from pain
But the battles in her bloodstream
Make her body ache
With the crumbling division
Of civil wars

She counts the diamonds
On the walls
Twirling down
The rabbit hole

Feathers in her lungs
Coaxing the medicine
Sinking, sinking
To the vibrant hues
Behind her eyelids
Feel her heartbeat
Echoing through your palms
Floating, floating
In the shades of blue

She falls asleep
And grows moss
Twirling down
The rabbit hole

A murder-
Nay, a processional
Of crows
Follows her
Through the rain
Her betrothed exists
At the end of a brain cell
He is the freedom
She will never achieve

Apartments stacked like tvs
Balcony screens where
Everybody can
Keep an eye
On one another
I saw a poet stop trying today
And tried to write it off
As a metaphor
I amplify their voices
So I can tell you
What the angry silhouettes
Were saying
Sprinklers buzzing
Like lost connections
And I heard them say,
I stopped living today
But I’m writing it off
As a vacation

never could give an apology

doesn’t translate
into whatever you speak
the way it should
(you’re crying)
you want
who can save
and be saved
at the same time
(you never let me finish a sentence)
it’s okay
you were trying to avoid
you’d seen monsters
in the cupboards
and skeletons
in the closet
you never wanted
to live that way
(you won’t speak to me
but i hear your glare)
everyone you need
will let you fall so hard,
there are no heroes.
but there’s a place
to sit wounded
at the end of the day.

eroding in the aeroplane
gliding above the places
where the land
has splintered away
impressive depressions
carefully branching
in rusty hues
deeper canyons
than my melancholy city
could appreciate

I saw the same
in the corners
of her eyes
later that day

the angel arrived
and offered her graces
to the troubled
"2 out of 5 stars-
more impressive in
the pictures”
she reported
on yelp

Last Post For A Lost Friend

Infrastructure was rotting
Under the weight of childhood secrets
The noise that dirtied the air
Was the resonance of sin
And things
We pretend
Never happened
Pinata guts on walls
That were never alive
And light so impure
It stole the stars at night
Every forgotten plaything
Will tell you
Nothing could brighten up this city

I could not tell
Whether I was floating
Through the clouds
Or sinking
Below the water

Fixed. theme by Andrew McCarthy