Empty Slots 4 Rent

Empty Slots 4 Rent

Spoiled-bitter-bloody liquid oozing from the holes that once held teeth, leaking down into the depths behind, a throat that chokes on chemical red, she smiles as the bile floods her lungs; Enriched within.

She awakes in a puddle of metallic drool, sticky and dirty, drizzled all over her cheek, staining her pillow, running deep within old tarnished fabrics, her tongue explores the dry cave from which her crooked teeth reside, the meaty flesh scrapes up against the hard enamel, bewildered by the lack of moisture; She did not sleep well.

The wisest of smile bones neatly plucked and cleanly sliced, two freshly shattered, two perfectly intact, stored away in plastic, a bag now holding wisdom of 18 years hidden inside the box of a dancer who no longer spins, shut safe and tight, cluttered behind the door of her closet.

What wisdom do they hold?

The four have sat up in her skull, awkwardly shifting and twisting their pointy roots in her jaw, growing with her, only to be removed; Years of observation taken.

"You raised them."

In the oddest way, I have indeed raised them, only for them to be discarded into a box of memories, their service not required by man for some time now; An unexpected Mother sends her boys off.

Poor children, all alone, separated from their siblings and family, left to collect dust and whatever bacteria flourishes in the space of their new home, it must be so lonely, so difficult to get used to their new microscopic neighbors; Missing impacted dental tissues.

My children left me with no wise words or lessons, instead they leave me, their mother, in pain, ghostly little fists punching at gums, bruising teeth, puffing up her cheeks, leaving her to sleep it all off; Recovery hurts.

Odd, such a strange feeling, my tongue slithers to the back, finding nothing, no one is there, only stitches and a pool of minty spiked saliva, the most disgusting tartness.

Although they left her in an irritating state of uncomfortable affliction, she misses them, it's vacant, quiet, no longer loud and jam packed, her rude children are gone, family photos at the dentist no longer the same, for there are four empty rooms in the back, where her babies are no longer.

- Autumn(Me)

Final Outcome

I knew, I was fully aware that you were not genuine, that I was going to be left alone, crying as I crawl on the floor, moaning through every ache, while sticky-gooey-embarrassing-snotty tears coat my face, feeling another soul crushing emptiness from someone new; Being right from the start.

Logically, I understand that it never would have worked for us, from the very beginning you were already hurting me, making me feel awful and appreciated at the same time, such a dirty trick; My emotions refused to acknowledge this helpful honesty.

You're so different from every other person I've ever clutched onto to an interest for, you "actually" held onto your very own interest in me, in us, in the beautiful bud I wanted nothing more than to blossom, blooming bright on a decaying earth; Another fantasy I let take over.

It's so ironic that I tossed out one boob, only to meet another; Boobie and Boober.

You saw the crack in my armor, one of many I try to hide, you snuck in, sinking your sharp fangs onto a naked sheep, you never had to do that to her, she would have gifted you with everything; Rubbing your dirty paws on the doormat that is my heart.

Every word I wrote for you was true, I made them each because I wanted to show you how wonderfully confused you made me, how I enjoyed the way you deliciously twisted up my insides from the deep dark depths of my gushing organs; Falling too hard, fully ready to plummet into a filthy-messy-meaty pancake.

I painted you the picture I envisioned every night when we talked, a piece so personal from the love that gets taken advantage of, you saw my canvas of truth and didn't bat an eye as you lit it on fire, leaving me to watch as you tied me up to a tree and vanished; A fool who was too vulnerable too soon.

In our final moments, I did anything and everything I could to not end it, but you...you did not, you did not try for me, I wanted to talk it all through because you were hurting me and I didn't understand why, you looked at me with pure disgust as I told you through cracked tears how painful it feels, the way you were mentally fucking me up.

Why?

Why would you do this to me?

Why would you pretend to give a damn about someone who is already broken?

Actions truly are louder than words, my actions screamed from collapsing lungs, it could be heard all throughout my encased home of love, shaking rooftops, but yours? I laugh like a maniac at what you decided to do, the choice you made to protect yourself and destroy the enchanting-caring-lovely gifts I had to offer.

Yours told me the very thing I did not want to believe, the inner voice inside did her best to warn me, I should have listened, but instead I welcomed in harshly-cold-bitter vile spat at from an angry man who hides himself well; A lesson I'll always repeat...it seems.

Through a burning-blurry-heaving haze, shakey hands take hold of the cruel tether that linked us, painfully slow, I begrudgingly begin to shred each fiber, completely tearing myself of the overwhelming string I used to gaze upon fondly; Separation...once again.

I'll miss you, even though you do not reciprocate the mushy feeling, I'll look at the time and think of everything we shared, the beautiful flower that could have grown, but I'll accept that this was how we were meant to end, that you were no good for me, and I carried nothing you would have really wanted, I was just a tempting craving you swirled around your sharp tongue; Mourning through acceptance, maturity.

Goodnight, Boober.

- Autumn(Me)

✒️🎨Meaty Clutter🎨✒️

Materials: Sketchbook cover, brush pens, and posca markers

An Unspoken Secret Yearning To Escape

There are words resting in my throat, choking me, wanting to be let out.

I'm scared of the aftermath that will come if I raise the volume of my thoughts; Purposefully unplugging my earbuds to let you all hear for yourselves.

What if you leave me?

What if you hear my disgusting thoughts and think me an ass?

You take each shakey pitch with venom as you clog up your eardrums; Perfectly placed cotton swabs.

If I don't speak up, I fear the worst, I teeter on the seesaw of internal death, the death of us.

But what if I said it all and things changed, it brings us closer, maybe carving open my mind wouldn't be so bad?

But I'm petrified that you're going to yell and take everything side ways, that you will think it all to be blame and slander; "A huge slap in the face to everything you've ever done for me, for us."

I hate bottling everything up in fear, I too am a hoarder, one of a different nature.

I just truly don't know how to fix us, I know there's a way, I just don't know which wire is the right one; Which one will cause us not to blow up and die?

I'm a coward who doesn't want to be the one to do it, to cut the wire that could help us heal, together.

My chest caves in at the thought of being abandoned for unshedding my tears; Opening up years of bottled anguish.

I'm just so tired, it hurts to see everyone suffering around me on mute, and I honestly don't like the thoughts that have been dashing around my head, they hold a knife up to my existence and whisper awful things; A twisted way of coping and solving everything.

What do I do, what do I say?

How do I keep us all together without you walking off into your mountainous forest of solitude?

Silently I weep at the thought of our band finally breaking up, each member angrily heading off in a different direction, walking home the true family way; Sitting alone in a quiet garage of abandoned-dusty-unique instruments.

Through tears I let the gentle melodies of our songs wash over me, it's torture to listen to my favorite hits alone, each memory bouncing off the lonely walls of my heart.

We don't need to crack and float away, there is no need to become Pangaea; Wait, just wait, I swear there's glue in this drawer or maybe...it's this one?

Will I raise the volume to my wellkept thoughts?

Clear my throat, raise my head up high, fixing my posture(for once), looking you each in your intimidating marbles, 3 pairs of brown and the lil odd man with the beautiful green orbs dancing in a mixture of many lovely shades, and release a tiny roar for your huge four-finger-lengthed foreheads to acknowledge?

No.

No, I will not be doing any of that, at least not with my voice, for my skills in writing far exceed the ones in speaking; Written material from the fierce-short-inner Centaur smoothly typed out as her tongue undoes a multitude of knots.

I spill to you this, my droplets of truth; A taste of the secret feelings I have imprisoned inside the dark shelves holding a fine collection of tightly sealed bottles within my heaving lungs.

Told to you through the freeing art of poetry; The Centaur is shy, having little experience in the domain of sharing and talking about the arrows currently kissing her skin, they've rested there for years, the blood has dried and dipped into her unwashed pores.

I am lost, searching for the safest way to pick out the splinters we have rooted deep within our skin; She doesn't know what to do, panicking under this overwhelming presence of frosty distance, stressful tears brimming the corners of her eyes.

How do I fix this?

Will sharing any of this help?

There are words scratching on the gummy insides of my throbbing neck, screeching to be freed, wanting to mix and mingle with the sounds of life, it kicks and strangles me, turning me green and blue, for I wish to vomit them loose on the carpet of our home, but I'm scared of the mess it shall truly make if I were to yack it all up for once.

- Autumn(Me)

Sweat Locked Exhaustion

Run your fingerprints all along my sticky pores, feel the stench dive deep within your divots and grooves, let it clench and coil along your bones; Filthy.

Glistening in a saucy sweat, dripping down from her dry silky scalp all the way to the foul smelling toes, curling at the sight, isn’t she gorgeous?

Never have you been faced with such a familiar dreadful aroma, so intoxicating the way it stings as it clings, hooking in sharply as it begins rooting itself deeper within the murky funky mold of her mind; Fungus of empty thoughts.

Spores open to breathe, only to find no air in their home, baking to a crisp inside her dome, glued down tight, entirely one with the oldeny-fresh-gunky dust of jaded silence; Fully nestled in.

Glide down tenderly as you get stuck in the puddles of dressings and every other disgusting thing that has latched onto her tired skin, circling through every dry sticky patch as you try not to barf, take it all in, inhale deeply as you do your best to pull yourself together; Exhausted and teary eyed.

Get down on your knees my sweet little sheep, bare down on my rotten selfish core, lick it all up, all the dirt and grim, between each crack and crease, exfoliate me until I’m nothing but a hollow shell; Dirty.

-Autumn(Me)

4/27/2024

Dipping Into Restless Stupor

Every part of my body is frozen except for my Brain, slowly it comes to the realization that only half of us are awake, a panic builds its way through my system as stress begins to settle in; Sleep Paralysis, again.

Doing it's best, she tries to get everyone else to rise from their slumber, for what if she is the only one awake for the rest of their existence, what happens if the other members of this body don't get back up, would anyone on the outside of this begrudgingly resting form know of this motionless dilemma?

Looking around through closed eyes there are no demons glowering at her still feet, just the darkness hugging tighter as she begins to sweat, trying with all her muster to get any limb that she can to move an inch, any sign of life to ease her out of sleep; The true frightful sight.

It's very slow as rock like limbs do their best to glide across the sheets, each muscle taking their sweet time to untighten as they spark back to life, sluggishly fighting against the powerful tugs of slumber as she forces her body up, eyes dryly burning to return back to the land of dreams and subconscious thoughts that sneak their way inside; The true battle begins.

Without realizing it, her body slips back into the comforting yet fuzzy haze that leaves her Brain in a chaotic frenzy of fear, dragging each stem of creaky sweaty joints at an agonizingly listless pace, hyper focused and strangely aware of the empty blackness she resides in, feeling like an eternity while she finally pulls out of the dreary-warm-night-starry sludge with all of her might one last time; An accidental slip of consciousness.

- Autumn(Me)

09/20/2024