hannah

hannah 1d

plant, overwatered
overflow drips from its lip
veins burst
*** breaks
shards slice
green remains
bleed thick sap
better to have overwatered
than dried to death

hannah 1d

to the blue-eyed boy,

you wake each day with eyes like rain,
that torch the dry cinders in mine
like a chilled flame or
tender moonlit streams
in the quiet middle of the night

burn me through
flesh, then bone
as i stare at your promise, veiled in blue
pull the curtain shut
blink just once.
i will become ash at the mercy of you

although we will never have each other, i pray you will hear these words someday

hannah May 24

decomposition

wet dirt
adhere to me
sand of the earth
mold me into being
your perfect being

(an inexistent being)

mother
nature
embrace me
allow me into your center
i will burn at your core
to become nothing
once more

hannah May 23

consume me

allow me to feed you my worship
i love you's and have me's
a spoon carved from my bone

let the golden honey from my lips
drip into your eyes
honey-colored glasses
to observe me through

forgive the heat of the blood
i would shed
flowing through my veins
warming, painting your porcelain skin

run a line from me to you
(i want to be with you)

hannah May 19

Untitled

if all the creatures in the world
blinked at once
would i still exist?

hannah May 17

shh

silence
straight
eyes
lines
eyes
slipped
lips
shut
lips
shut
lips
sewn
sense
dont
sense
stable
dont
move
silence

Be good.

hannah May 15

butterfly

Lepidoptera,
what a pretty word for
not quite birds,
not quite angels,
not quite bugs,
not quite devils.

Their scales are faint,
carrying the weight
of shifting tides
across the world
or maybe
even the rocks
where the aliens sleep.

Ah,
Lepidoptera,
what a pretty word
to hold the fear
of an ever-changing universe.