You Asked For It

You Asked For It

By Tori Bryl

Ultraviolence

The door is cracked open,

even though I slammed it

shut when the blood sunset

spilled its wounds all over

the room. The wind must

have burst through while the

blues almost pushed me

out the window. Or maybe

I crawled out of white layers

after two, and turned the

knob in my sleep, because 

there you were waiting with

violets in your hands. But I

woke and found the color

pressed on my skin with your

fingerprints instead. This must be

some wicked dream. Or maybe

too much has been real to ever

want to be awake. So tonight

I’ll bolt the door or take the 

leap of faith. God help me.

 

 

Rearview Mirror

maybe all those long drives

weren’t good for you.

you were looking back

as much as looking forward.

chasing telephone lines

while you didn’t say a word,

screaming thoughts overpowered

by the engines growl and groan.

you were as angry and bitter

as that early winter,

speeding off

into the January night.

you wore chains through the snow

and left them on

when spring came

and the world around thawed.

but while trees grew

and lilies bloomed,

you became cold metal

on four wheels,

grinding down any road

that didn’t lead home.

 

 

I’m Sorry I’m Depressed, And You Have To Live With It

i’m sorry for every time

i’ve let the storms of my heart

send rain clouds to your blue skies

and i’m sorry even more

for the fact that there will always

be one on the horizon,

and that every moment in between

is just the calm before.

 


Tori Bryl is a Florida native working and writing through her twenties. She enjoys late night drives, music, and films. Her poetry is published or forthcoming in Aeolus, Foliate Oak, Bridge, and Capulet Magazine.

ECT and Underwater Viscera - A collection

ECT and Underwater Viscera - A collection

Bobby

Bobby