crash ocean stories

peachwine ghost kid
Autoplay OFF   •   4 years ago
thoughts on a brief love


by peachwine

and sometimes i feel words stuck in my veins and sometimes i hope, i hope that you are merciful, bite down on my lip hard enough that they can find their way out,

dripping blue, or black and tasting like an ocean i’ve never been to,

and on your tongue, they will finally make sense,

and maybe you can tell me what they are, because all i’ve ever felt are phantom seas of words beneath my skin, all i’ve ever been able to do,

is tap the skin of my wrist, pretty as porcelain dolls, pretty as weakness,

and see them coil up to the surface, the colour of the ocean where my father wants to die, where my father’s father will, where his father did,

and maybe i’ll taste them too, in the corners of your mouth,

on the tip of my tongue as it grazes the edges of your teeth,

and maybe it’ll taste like blood, maybe it’ll taste like the sea,

maybe it’ll taste like the rose-hip tea my grandmother once gave me, whose taste hasn’t left me since i burnt my mouth on the first sip,

and yes, you are my first sip,

you are the sound of my hissing blood as i cup a shell from an ocean i’ve only seen in pictures to my ear, you are what it tells me;

and honey open up your veins,

honey cut your tongue on my edges, honey bleed for me,

you are saltwater skin and crushed shell bones, pearlescent and unforgiving,

nothing can live from you,

and yet i will, i will, i will

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