Monthly Archives: August 2017

[divide].

there’s a monster growing in our heads
raised up on the wicked things we’ve said
a great divide between us now
something we should know 

there’s something to remember
and something to forget
as long as we remember
there’s something to regret 

something we should know
there’s a mountain higher than we knew
it’s high but such a bitter view
a great divide between us now 

something we should know
a great divide between us now
on different sides of a great divide

– “the great divide,” the cardigans.


“l o s t.”

i’ll be damned if i do it, damned if i don’t
i’ll be lost if i love him, lost if i won’t
and i can’t muster up the courage to say it’s best that i leave
i can’t muster up much of anything when i’m feeling you breathe

my human heart won’t mend itself
when my own two hands are ripping out the seams
oh, it seems i’m my own worst enemy, oh
i’m doing it to myself

i’ll be hurt if i leave him, but turn cold if I don’t
he’s the sweet of a morning kiss, but there’s a poison it holds
sticking thorns into my spine but i won’t let go
sticking thorns into my sight, but i’ll keep my eyes closed

my human heart won’t mend itself
when my own two hands are ripping out the seams
oh, it seems i’m my own worst enemy, oh
i’m doing it to myself, oh

i’m doing it, i’m doing it, i’m doing it

with my own heart i won’t let it mend
use my own two hands, i rip out all the seams
oh, it seems i’m my own worst enemy, oh
i’m doing it to myself, oh

i’m doing it, i’m doing it, i’m doing it
to myself

~ liza anne.


sleepology.

eight hours
of blood
and salt,
pain and
humiliation.

eight hours
searching for
respite and comfort,
love and
approval.

eight hours
of desperation
and terror,
restless drama and
tiresome torture.


cup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of sugar,
cup of tea,
cup of soup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of dust,
cup of glass,
cup of blades.

another one
for the cup:
cup of blood,
cup of salt,
cup of hair.

another one
for the cup:
cup of nails,
cup of grass,
cup of pain.


[okay]?

what happened?
it’s okay.

where did you go?
it’s okay.

how’s your heart?
it’s okay.

is it dark?
it’s okay.

are you alone?
it’s okay.

when will it stop?
it’s okay.

why not?
it’s okay.

it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.


organ donor.

slice me open,
take my lungs:
they have overcome asthma;
broken the limits of anxiety; and
suffered the deepest grief and pain.
still i breathe.
take my lungs.

slice me open,
take my liver:
it was once clean and pure,
until annihilated in a moment;
but time and time over, proof of natural restoration.
still i heal.
take my liver.

slice me open,
take my heart:
it is cool to touch;
ice-like and made of broken stone;
simultaneously rough and fragile.
still i live.
take my heart.

slice me open,
take my [life].