hearts on sleeves

our hearts feel pain
when we try to wear
them on our sleeves
because they rip and tear
when our love starts to grieve
under the weight of our
heartaches that stack up
in our ribcages, an ugly
picture of loneliness within
a skeletal frame, the pressure
builds up, lungs can’t breathe in
voices can’t let it out
and then we are
never the same

Moon Sorrow

I’m not a rebound
The young Moon sadly whispered
The ones heartbroken
By the Sun’s quick departure
Tried to replace their sorrow
And darkness with other light,
But found the Moon grim
And he grew dimmer
Because the Sun would
Not face him

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: replacement

smoke and rain

ten fingers, all pointing back at me
lit up, like the ends of cigarettes
burning me
i use five of them to write,
turning myself inside out,
using the other five to hold down
the paper as it writhes about,
the words shout at the top of their lungs
all kinds of trivial things, masking
the truth that sinks to the bottom
of my heart,
returning to me, rattling down my ribs,
ladder rungs
my eyes smoke, and my brain the milky fog
haunting the heads of ponds and lakes
making dogs whimper and run home,
climbing under coffee tables
to escape the rain

____
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: ten

sunlight thieves

i thought about it, the way
the light bleeds through beads
strung up, side by side
wearing them on my wrists or neck
what am i trying to reveal or hide
when i slide them on, i’m enamored
when they seem to steal light from the sun
but press the warmth of it against my skin
and at night when i remove their grip,
they lay undone, stripped of me,
do they feel naked without me,
growing cold on the vanity