The Things that We Are | Teen Ink

The Things that We Are

March 21, 2015
By thekidwiththemustang BRONZE, Bruneau, Idaho
thekidwiththemustang BRONZE, Bruneau, Idaho
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

We are the thing you lay to rest,
We are the heartbeat in your chest.
We are the distant screaming in your mouth,
We are the mindless, destructive drouth.

We set fire to your bones,
We are the bloody, saint-killing stones.
We are the time-honored wedding vows,
We are the thoughtless, the wild, the touse.

We are the hold on sugar we are going down,
We are the shattered, dusty, broken crown.
We are the hanging noose on your bloody heart,
We are the Tell Apart, the Keep Apart, the Fall Apart.

We are the suicide flight toward the sun,
We are the never-gonna-come long run.
We are the Out of Time and Out of Place,
We are the fox giving the hounds a thorny chase.

 

We are the beaten flat,
We are the rotten, twisted slat.
We are the coming home,
We are the soul-wrenching urge to roam.

We are the far-off shore,
We are the dying, fallen-down w****.
We are the hands that built the throne,
We are the blood-sprinkled fields with sorrow sown.

We are the endless, the mighty, the dead,
We are the twisted sheets on your broken bed.
We are the flipping, starved candle flame,
We are the truth and the crying shame.

We are the dauntless,
We are the wantless.
We are the tireless, rushing thrill,
We are the undeniable urge to kill.

We are the drowning in seas of ice,
We are the You Will Never Suffice.
We are the life on the line,
We worship the god on the empty shrine.

We are the thoughtless,
We are the goddess.
We are the tumbling grain of sand,
We are the nerve-endings in your sun-washed hand.

We sleep in underwater caves,
We are Ares’ servants’ graves.
We blow up against window panes,
We are the haunting scent of rain.

We are the song beating in your mind,
We are fates tightly intertwined.
We are the tongue cut from the mouth,
We are the laughing, the crying, the south.

We are the girl forced to love,
We are the cat-killed mourning dove.
We are the twisted, shaken truth,
We are the lacking, unrefined, uncouth.

We fill the stage with a bloodless haze,
We are the lover’s attention that strays.
We are the sunlight trapped in your hair,
We are the echoing aftermath of nightmares.

We flee justice on a rocking horse,
We are the blood of the opposing force.
We clothe our monsters in silken gowns,
We ruin our knuckles with endless rounds.

We are flecks of blood caressing your lips,
We are the silence as you scrape up the chips.
We are running on broken legs,
We are square holes fitting to square pegs.

We are fingertips pressed down your throat,
We are the wine-splashed, tear-stained farewell note.
We are the beasts that refuse to comply,
We are the North Star, stagnant in the sky.

We soar with the death-eating carrion crow,
We are the ocean floor lava flow.
We are the need you cannot sate,
We are the killer you underrate.

We live to see you cry,
We are the knife pressed deep in your thigh.
We are the pills you long to take,
We are the girl that gives your heart a break.

We are the masters of quiet departure,
We are the ribcage of the hunger marcher.
We are the stiches in the shirt on your back,
We are the reason behind the panic attack.

We are the picture thrown at the wall,
We are the leaf, destined to fall.
We count raindrops as they roll down the glass,
We are the empty pews during mass.

We are the angry thing that lashes out,
We know all the reasons you have to doubt.
We are the fed-up, the finished, the fierce,
We are the fiery, hungry gray eyes that pierce.

We are the hands that draw you astray,
We are the joy you put away.
We are the ash on the end of a cigarette,
We are the boy you can’t seem to forget.

We are the abstinence of fear,
We are the sound pulsing in your ear.
We walk the lonely game trails,
We are the blood-red polish on your nails.

We are the scars leaking across your arms,
We are the boy that pulls fire alarms.
We are the ink embracing your skin,
We are the thing they call a deadly sin.

We are colors you see when you close your eyes,
We are the trapped thing, enveloped by flies.
We are the feeling of intertwined souls,
We wrote the words on the Dead Sea Scrolls.

We are the slipping-away thing you wish you had,
We are the beautiful thing that drives you mad.
We are the free thing that fools keep penned,
We are the broken thing that dies in the end.



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