//neoteny// is the art of remaining young, as i learned while drunk off tea this afternoon. to be young is to be born just to die. it is lonely and annihilating, yet lovely; a light in the fog. these days stay with me by moonlight. they chase me, haunt me, soothe me, move me. i will never be empty beside the memory of sun rise through the window of a trailer on the coast, rubbed raw to expose a tame and foreign heart; or believing the garden of ultimately dull & unlively plants was indeed beneath the sea, swaying and transforming, as i sat on a porch of purple dusk in the city with stars as eyes and a mind enlightened by hallucination. as i breathe the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes stained on my skin from the beers & blankets shared hours ago, i am comforted by the memory of my self destruction. i have burned & buried my smooth skin, broken the love you fought to show me, sacrificed my innocence for strange thrills, cursed the sun, woke up beneath skies i did not recognize, sold myself to their dreams so i could look in her eyes and see acceptance. i have cut myself from stone. and that, in itself, is enough beauty to overcome the horror beneath this suffering. as for you; stop trying to save a world you don’t fit into anyway. light pink candles in the morning, promise immediate and forever, brave alligators & babe magnets, spill rain in your champagne, laugh over skinned knees, break silence to break hearts, wine and dine, climb mountains, find peace in the back of a pick up truck. i fight for this feeling, for my fix. it ain’t love, but it ain’t bad.
meaghan murphy
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