this dress is for me by Slightly-Kitsch, literature
Literature
this dress is for me
i am a daughter
a son
a father
a friend
a mother
a lover
not a means to an end
i am no sylph
not covered in filth
no shame and no blame
no hate and no gain
not a piece of meat
for the world to chew
to spit on a snarl at
and chase and abuse
milk white skin
that the sun seldom sees
is no invitation
the inch of scarred flesh
above both my knees
is no invitation
the swell of small breasts
under tight floral print
is no invitation
this dress is for me
your hair shines like the speckled sea glass i collect in a jar
trapped and held, caged, for it's beauty
(i will not keep you in the cage of my ribs)
while i glisten with the sweat of a boiling summer
submerging myself in the ocean of your arms
sticky and sweet like high afternoons
i love you loudly
perhaps too loudly
but everything wonderful in life has to be up to eleven
in the company of others, words stick and swell in my throat
but your gaze removed the adhesive coating my lips
and my mind races along a dirt road
twisting and turning around your naked feet
the claws of a possum and the fangs of a bat
painful purples and yel
the trees have blushed golden
clothes scattered on the earth below them
to stand as stone-cold bruises
against the snow
i am a bundle of smoke and dirt
and twigs and ash
lying on the tiled sea of the
freezing bathroom floor
where you stand barefoot
with wicked teeth
and wild eyes
and warm hands
i want to cover maps with you
loving you with the yellowing teeth
of a rotting sugar skull
as we cradle eachother's bones
in the crooks of our arms
skin dancing
flesh burning
our blood vessels snap like sugarcane
as we panting gasping breathlessly
await the rising cough-syrup sun.
this dress is for me by Slightly-Kitsch, literature
Literature
this dress is for me
i am a daughter
a son
a father
a friend
a mother
a lover
not a means to an end
i am no sylph
not covered in filth
no shame and no blame
no hate and no gain
not a piece of meat
for the world to chew
to spit on a snarl at
and chase and abuse
milk white skin
that the sun seldom sees
is no invitation
the inch of scarred flesh
above both my knees
is no invitation
the swell of small breasts
under tight floral print
is no invitation
this dress is for me
your hair shines like the speckled sea glass i collect in a jar
trapped and held, caged, for it's beauty
(i will not keep you in the cage of my ribs)
while i glisten with the sweat of a boiling summer
submerging myself in the ocean of your arms
sticky and sweet like high afternoons
i love you loudly
perhaps too loudly
but everything wonderful in life has to be up to eleven
in the company of others, words stick and swell in my throat
but your gaze removed the adhesive coating my lips
and my mind races along a dirt road
twisting and turning around your naked feet
the claws of a possum and the fangs of a bat
painful purples and yel
the trees have blushed golden
clothes scattered on the earth below them
to stand as stone-cold bruises
against the snow
i am a bundle of smoke and dirt
and twigs and ash
lying on the tiled sea of the
freezing bathroom floor
where you stand barefoot
with wicked teeth
and wild eyes
and warm hands
i want to cover maps with you
loving you with the yellowing teeth
of a rotting sugar skull
as we cradle eachother's bones
in the crooks of our arms
skin dancing
flesh burning
our blood vessels snap like sugarcane
as we panting gasping breathlessly
await the rising cough-syrup sun.
TGITSJ: Chapter One by Slightly-Kitsch, literature
Literature
TGITSJ: Chapter One
I don't know why I'm writing this. It's not like it'll help with the investigation or anything. Her parents, the principal, the police they want me to write it. They want me to write what happened. Why it happened. Who was involved.
They think I know all the answers to all of their questions.
I don't know any of that.
I really don't.
I didn't even know her name.
She went to my school. I never noticed her, but then again, I didn't really notice anyone there. I think she might have been in a few of my classes, but honestly, I don't know anything for sure. I'm not much of a people person. I don't speak to people, and they don't spea
-i'm finally in my second-last year of highschool
-my hair is now (accidentally) rainbow
-i've started writing and drawing again
-i'm seeing die antwoord tonight
-i got a free rosary yesterday
-i am hopefully getting a gender therapist soon