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So now I’m starting over
and this time I’ll move my assets to my own interior.

I’ll set up bookcases along my trembling ribs
and fill them with so much knowledge
that my bones become poised again.

And I’ll teach myself passion for my own skin
instead of reaching to use yours as a blanket.

And I’m going to be strong.
I’ll have the courage to say, “Yes,”
(because I do want to, I’ve just been too frightened to)
and the power to say, “No.”
I’m too tired—
too drained from going through all of these
automatic motions.

Perhaps most difficult of all,
I’m going to let myself love people—
the ones I know
and the ones I’ll never see again.

I’m going to be present
and vulnerable
and radiate vivid shades of sentiment,
touching everything within my view.

But don’t for a moment, dear love,
think I haven’t stopped to wonder:
where will my journey leave you?

{ Your Heart, My Home II | Vivienne Landon }

"Home is where the heart is,"
so I built my home in yours.

I squeezed between your sturdy ribs
and set my things beside your open heart.
I took air from your lungs
while your bones kept me safe,
and I began to understand the nature of things
as I observed from my quiet haven.

But now I’m afraid
because I rely too heavily on you,
something I swore I would not do.
And now my foundation is crumbling
as I lose myself to ambiguity.

{ Your Heart, My Home I | Vivienne Landon }

You’ve opened up my timid ribs
and peered into my soul.

Tenderly,
you separated my cautious flesh—
picked apart each nervous vein,
each poised tendon.

And somehow
I only felt elation
as I watched you dismantle my entire being.

But when I awoke today,
I felt my unraveled veins bleeding out.
I realized my exposed internals
as I saw my lungs spasm
between mangled ribs.

Panic strikes.

And I don’t know if I should stitch my bones together again
with trembling thumbs and
flustered core.
Or shall I allow you to continue
with your exquisite production?

{ Interference | Vivienne Landon }

We make faces underwater
and bubbles rising to the surface
are the sole reflection of our presence.

We set loose our aging imaginations—
we give them their shamelessness again.
If the humans are watching,
we don’t notice
as we splash about in brightly-colored fins,
scales glistening in the sun-warmed shallows.

Basking in the last of the day’s golden embrace,
we find peace and comfort in silence,
in an unforgeable freedom;
and I think I finally found myself
in you.

{ Making Faces | Vivienne Landon }

just a quick sketch

unicorns make me think of my dad

perhaps the mess I made of such a majestic creature shows the state of my own emotional unrest

Steaming memories run down my spine
reminding me of all the time
I had to say goodbye,
but I didn’t.

I saw your face,
so pale, so…
foreign.

Was it even you I would have said farewell to?

I wrote your name today.
I didn’t mean to.
It wasn’t supposed to be yours, anyway.
But there it was.

And it stung me in the deepest chasm of my soul.

It reverberated out and
stuck needles into my heart
and shot ice shards through my veins.

But through the tremors in my hands,
I pressed on.
I wrote your name and I gave it away.

I guess I finally found my moment
to say adieu.

{ I Wrote Your Name | Vivienne Landon }

Bones cracking;
Nails scratching.

Pulsing veins and screaming tongue—
What will I become?

{ Limbo | Vivienne Landon }

When I tell you that I love you,
I feel a wrongness on my tongue;

For I can’t express in meager words
my fervent heart’s desire
to leap from its ribbed chamber and embrace your entire being.

When you smile,
the somber insects in my stomach start fluttering about.
They spread their wings until they reach through my throat
and reform on my mouth into a feral grin.

And I can’t help but notice the ache that I feel
when you’re there
and I’m here.
And I don’t want to touch you;
I just want to consume you.

I want every inch of you buried deep inside my bones—
your heart beating in rhythm with mine,
your lungs squeezing mine.

I want to hear your thoughts grating and screaming against my own
until there is no you;
There is no me.

{ My Fervent Heart | Vivienne Landon }