Fever 

We created this fever, a rush of bloodlust caught between the darker sides of our souls collision. A bleed of infamy pouring into sidewalk cracks, a absence of rain to wash our shamed skin or the pavements stained with our memory. Drinking from the darkest parts of our weeping bones, we find suffering together beautiful. Leaving love notes on each other’s chest, worn as scarlet letters, learning to love the shades of red against our colorless lives. Painting words on lips & staining dreams where we meet in shitty bars only to drink from one another’s lips. Drunk on thoughts & high within each other’s fractured eyes, we wipe the tears sweetly & call ourselves a mess. We hold hands & our fingers spark, the rubbing of winter bones hungry for a thaw after a summer spent without each other’s comfort. We take in every moment as if time were a gift from angry Gods, defying fate & calling our minutes a lifelong dream. We sit in silence, our dark hearts meet between eyes & stories we will tell in our next life, where we lived beyond paper skin & sin. We refuse the thoughts of heaven, for how could stars shape the sky & not hold us perfectly suspended in each other’s arms. We curse the night as the moon turns to kiss the sun good morning as we have whispered all the mornings before this night was set. We close our eyes, knowing we live within each other’s skin & morning will hold our empty sheets & heartbeats after we begged hell for one day spent,escaping the what if. So we hold each other for seconds more, as the day breaks & touches our face with the warmth of the sun but not each other’s hold. We open our eyes to the nightmares that we live wide awake & wait for that next good morning text… So we can breathe again.We live in our twisted world of obsession & addiction spilled into a insatiable mess.For I never believed in God until I heard my name leave his lips, as a prayer

Leave me unholy

Still chasing the cedar waters of the pines with ghost, holding hands with memories better left in the woods. Where my soul was once clean & untouched by the crumbling churches and stained glass choices, running from the life of a preachers voice. Sleeping on altars through services, wearing shame as a dress made of the dirtiest linen, lips blood soaked in mercy, never tasted.

Left with handprints on white skin from altar boys who couldn’t resist kissing behind wooden pews, their vile fingers tracing the hem of my skirt, staining my flesh in sin. Staring into the eyes of the devil & daring his intentions because that’s what preachers daughters do. Pressed against the fountain where souls were once washed clean in baptism, now tarnished by dirty hands and missing skirts. Washing my mouth out with the unclean water, promising never to do it again.

We all rebel from the day we are born, cursing our life and assuming we deserve to touch sky with delicate fingertips, yet I have never known nothing more intimate than lying to myself & drenching my salvation in shame, while the good Lord watched. Father always said, I was kissed by the devil, little did he know I was hell bent & marked by the flames. I still taste his bone & ash every time I drink from God’s fountain with empty eyes.

Copyright protected @lexisloveletters

Empty beds

  
I guess I lost you 

In between sunset and sunrise

Somewhere before the divide

I woke to no heartbeat

Against the sheets

Or cold feet against my thighs

No lull of your breathing

Or pull from the sheets

The chill of the absence

Left my spine untouched

By warm hands

A pulse echoing against my skin

The wrap in the blanket

Covering two souls

The rise of your chest

The falling of my heart

Just touched by sun

The only love, 
I can count on”

@inkwellwriter5

All Suns set eventually

My playground

  
Her hair was tied in bows

Toes pointed to the air

As I watched her skirt fly up

Her head tilted back

Echoing the sky

Eyes closed, pointed toes

On that old playground swing

She had a careless nature

Inquisitive smile

I was curious

So I stayed awhile

To watch her float on dreams

Her throat hummed

Spilling into the daylight

The swing carried her high

I was lost in a trance

Eyes glued to a blonde haired

Fiery soul hell bent on flying

I approached her

Asked her if I could join in the fun

If possibly she could hop

Off that cloud and push me

She opened her eyes

A laugh bubbled inside her

Her voice made my hair stand on end

As she hopped off that swing

Pushing hard as she can

She swung me to heaven

Then right back down to hell…

She whispered, the swings are mine

You spent enough time here

Go play with the little girls

Over on the slide

They have nothing to hide

This playground is mine

With that she kicked sand in my face

Laughing as she hopped back

Up in that swing

Locking eyes with the boy

Who wanted to use her

For a free ride

-playtime is over

@inkwellwriter5

Drowning in ink

  
She forgot to close her book

As she drifted into dreams

All of her ink came pouring out

Flooding her life in streams

Memories flooding the halls

Words clinging to mirrors

Haunting her reflection

Of all the past, she wrote down

Choking her lungs

Everything she put to paper

Gathered at her feet

Skin stained in ink

Syllables entangle legs 

Left kicking and screaming

No strength to swim

In the poetry she had written

To escape her present

Burning her past 

In words that came back

To combine her future

With her past

A tidal wave of significance

Etching her soul

 
With every last word

Drowning in every word

You have ever heard”

@inkwellwriter5 

You cannot out live your ink

Honey

  
“It was if a thousand bees crawled beneath my heart, creating a buzz from the very start. The feel of their wings as they tickled my lungs and breezed by my throat. A tickle, a hum of pure delight… A feeling I felt long into the night. Laying honey in veins, sticky and sweet, coating my heart in the richness of golden promise, allowing love to stick to the untouched places~”

@inkwellwriter5

The buzz of bees