You're doing great! Only five more poems to reach your goal! You're so close, you can do this! (And I mean, whoever said you can't update your thread after April? << >>) Okay but in all seriousness, where did you steal all these poems from? You're telling me you wrote them all?? These are so meaningful I actually almost cried. Thank you for sharing them with us!!! ^^
If you ever want to talk, please feel free to PM me for any reason! ^^ Don't write because you're a writer; write because you have something to say. Orabella ~ Ora ~ Avenue ~ Aven She/her
I can't believe I'm only reading your amazing poetry now! Your poems and so meaningful and emotional and I love that they are all telling a story. I especially loved your first poem, that one hit hard but I loved reading it. Great job this month avian!!
sometimes, i’d like to tear myself apart; rip my skin away until there is nothing left but marrow and shattered bones. i’ll pick at my brain piece by piece and slowly, slowly, slowly, my entire being will disintegrate into nothing more than a memory.
and when i finally die and mother nature holds me in her arms, i hope you’ll find a bouquet growing from my lungs. i hope you’ll see that i tried and tried again to create a life inside my dead body. i hope you’ll see that i was more than flesh.
because although my casket was filled with a shell of a girl, i still shared all that i was with the world. you’ll see it on everything i touched— i gifted my fingerprints to everything beautiful; left my hands broken and brittle, not because i always peeled away my skin, but because i gave away every line of my palm.
and if you ask my loved ones who i was, they’ll give you an orchid and three marigolds from when i opened myself in front of them. they’ll tell you that i gave more than i had, that i left my footprint in every dirt road, and that my body was filled with flowers and ash.
night eats the sun & stains the world orange with our memories. we have always existed here; the streetlamps fill our mouths with gold dust & whisper our secrets to the dewy grass beneath our feet.
maybe you can run your palm along the groves of my mind & feel the melancholy that resides there. maybe you can taste the dandelions on my chin before you go because we know that we will not last. we know that we are only finite.
& what i mean is that i want to open my chest & hold my heart out for you so you can see that this moment is not just us but it is everything we will ever be.
all the words i forever keep hidden under my tongue taste like tangerine slices & smoke.
and it was strange, then; the sky was much too blue for the hour & the orange street lamps burned themselves into the clouds.
i walked along the asphalt & wondered why this didn’t feel like goodbye. my knees scraped the ground as i walked & everything was tattered and worn with an unappeased wondering.
i looked to the too-blue clouds & asked what they thought.
i want to rip my skeleton from my body and i don’t know what this means. i want to crawl out of my skin and i— (i don’t know what this means)
keep me in your pocket like spare change; don’t lose me to the crevices of the earth, hold my brokenness together in your embrace where i cannot fall apart (where i cannot escape myself.)
oh my gosh. avian, you write like you've been writing poetry for decades :0 which is to say, your imagery is stunning, your word choice is beautifully unexpected yet also makes perfect sense, and your poems are devastatingly beautiful. "Floss" is so creative like whaaaaat connecting dental hygiene and poetry and emotions?? and i love love love "tangerine slices" ahhh i wanna write it down and stare at it again and again. you are one of my favorite yws poets :3 great job this NaPo!!
I like how quickly the poem moves into setting the scene and showing what it’s about. It feels like a good story hook!
>> Glass Lies
I really love the imagery in this one. “the dust i placed on the windowsill” seems to show how meticulously the speaker crafts lies or the facade of themself. “sublimation” works well with the dust imagery too because its a solid turning directly to gas which kind of looks like dust.
The switch from inorganic or inanimate things to a swarm of bees was also striking, and it effectively contrasts how the speaker wants to present themself to the world and how they really feel inside.
I appreciate how well you use metaphor in a lot of these poems, like with the orchids and marigolds for emotional openness in ‘flowers and ash’ and the ‘Floss’ for the speaker trying to get rid of memories of the addressee.
