24 hour nocturnal girl.

24 hour nocturnal girl.

grace gutekanst

I'm in the wrong mood to be writing a poem.

The wrong mood.

I want to rip my skin off

A puddle on the floor

Just a skeleton of bones

Curling up in a hole

Leave me alone.

Let me crack my head and ooze information 

Let my mind revert to a child's

Let my fingernails peel off like worn tape

Today I don't feel like being me

Tomorrow might be different

But for now

let me be raw and solemn

To make my mouth move

I'd need a million little strings

sewn to my upper lip

like a curtain to a play

Right now I'm dark, closed

and the show hasn't started

The amount of energy to tug at the strings

my lazy lips-

I can't even finish my thoughts.

Maybe my body is still asleep

My walking unconscious

Let me be a zombie today

Let my arms lay limp

Let my eyes glaze over

Let my face freeze in time

Let my spine have a break

from holding up my persona

Preserve my heart until tomorrow

My interior is wilting

Collapsing strength

Let my body break down

Put the factory on hold

Let pumping blood turn stale

I don't want to confine

Or define

Just release

Float me out to sea

Unraveling intestines

A drifting corpse

Cut open and cold

Come Wednesday I'll be re-sewn

To read this poem

But for now...

Postpone surgery on my soul