<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Seven<\/strong><\/p>\n 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Eden Wood<\/strong> is currently a 17-year-old girl living in London, studying A-Level English Literature, Classics and Philosophy. Her bedroom houses three pet cacti and a kitten named Am\u00e9lie. She wants to be God; would settle for “Ghost Princess”. twitter:\u00a0 @edenhalo\u00a0 <\/a>writing blog: eden-halo.tumblr.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Seven 1. Some pretty little boy tried to get fresh with me in a bathroom once (just once), I was sat, drifting softly, legs apart on the edge of the bath when he shut the sterile door, bolted, sealed us in \u2014 I didn\u2019t trust him, his bubblegum wad tongue, taste of pineapple […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5544","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5544","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5544"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5544\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5546,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5544\/revisions\/5546"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5544"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5544"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5544"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nSome pretty little boy tried to get fresh
\nwith me in a bathroom
\nonce (just once), I was sat, drifting softly, legs apart
\non the edge of the bath
\nwhen he shut the sterile door,
\nbolted, sealed us in \u2014
\nI didn\u2019t trust him, his bubblegum wad tongue,
\ntaste of pineapple
\n(probably Bacardi Breezer)
\nthe sort of thing that\u2019s sweet<\/p>\n
\nAt first, then sears my mouth
\nall half-numb and chemical, too acerbic to
\nstomach, tongue swollen and lip-tied; I didn\u2019t slap him
\naround his acid-sharp face, didn\u2019t give him
\nthe static electricity glow
\nof my hands on his skin,
\nonly punched him
\nsquarely in the gut, slammed
\nthe door before his punch bowl insides gave way
\nall over the new-peeling paint.<\/p>\n
\nSlumped deep in this sofa, we\u2019ve been
\nwatching the lava lamp shiver
\nand swell for well over an hour as the party cools
\naround us, kiss-blown lumps, all igneous,
\ninsignificant as planets; and it looks to me like you \u2014
\nswelling, yawning, wet red sweat beads
\nof your hedonistic minimum effort ethic;
\none who has never asked themselves
\nwhether God exists and, as such, has never been denigrated
\ninto triumph or zeal \u2014<\/p>\n
\nAnd your lumpy majesty and
\ngrace, your curling tongue, your downy face,
\nall lackadaisical, makes me half crazy, burnt up
\nlike copper dust, never even second best.
\nIf only I\u2019d had your idea first
\nof a soul made of the dandruff flakes of
\ncocoons you never wholly shed, a collage
\nof half-hearts and purgings, wholly merged
\ninto a set of angel wings, all snowflake-blessed, sublime,
\nwhile I am evergreen, a mess.<\/p>\n
\nFrom a suitable distance (as one views art), we are identical,
\none eye green, one eye blue \u2014 but you,
\nyou could never gaze upon
\nsome masterpiece that was not
\nyours because that is
\nnot how you taught yourself to see; my heart, for instance \u2014
\nall that glistens is mostly blood, and God knows
\nthat is the currency
\nof the vast, dank kingdom
\nbetween your skull and your ribcage.<\/p>\n
\nI, however, concern myself more with
\nhoarding than stealing, filling my organs as you do
\nwith oxygen particles, dust and booze, cartons of
\njuice and draughts carrying maladies
\nthat I cluster, stuff myself on, give me
\ngratification, give me death, my glorious
\nstore of breath a false troposphere, closing
\nall the windows in talcum powder and dew
\nuntil I burst, polluted like fireworks,
\nform a cesspool, wreck my party dress.<\/p>\n
\nTo be grazed is to be graced, you see,
\nfor I am Lady Midas \u2014 not yet
\nbeyond the point of contagion, mistletoe-crowned,
\ndiamante gas mask worn this morning to glide above
\nground and weave through malls, mere mortals,
\nas gilded thread glides through tapestry, I do not trust
\nmy head would pass through the eye of a needle
\nthough my soul like a left side lung has shrunk
\nto make space for the splendour
\nof all the rest of me.<\/p>\n