my embodiment is the crest atop this precipice, but it wouldn't be anything without you. between your body and the ground, the hollow den is depressing into a continuous vacuum. amidst the vacuity, my roots are merging with yours until we are secured fingertip to fingertip,
hand in unlovable hand.
now, the macrocosm is settling into sequestered nihility while i am still teaching myself how to breathe without your lungs, without feeling your heartbeat tremble against your chest.
I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand
~ No Children
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
he doesn't speak a lot. instead, he uses his hands to describe his feelings; each finger representing a new layer to his labyrinthine temper, the way they curve into embrace with each other illustrating a natural delicacy to his movements.
he doesn't speak a lot, and that's admirable because i've grown to realize only some moments
last forever.
Snakes in the grass beneath our feet, rain in the clouds above Some moments last forever, but some flare out with love, love, love
~ Love Love Love
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
poetry: always imperfect. i count flaws in dozens until i am bursting at the seams with detestation. somewhere there is an ending to the amount of numbers you can count up to, but i have not reached it yet.
is infinity evident, or is it a concept created to avoid reality? i have left sensibility far behind me now because it's easy to write down words, but it's difficult to form poetry.
Some days I think I'd feel better if I tried harder. Most days I know it's not true.
~ Wild Sage
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
as night becomes day, i hear your hymns inching past your larynx; they sound like gentle rain, pitter-pattering on the asphalt. as day becomes evening, they mature into a turbulent storm.
If we never make it back to California, I want you to know I love you But my love is like a dark cloud full of rain, always right there up above you
~ See America Right
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
you swathe your heart in bandages to keep it from crumbling into tiny pieces. deep down, you know your heart is already cracked. deep down, you care about the abyss forming, but you're too tired to cluster the fragments together.
you can't wrap up your brain no matter how steadfastly you try. it's unfortunate. the shards are razor-thin, razor-sharp like the blade on your tongue when you shout why can't you see my nightmares?
somehow, after all of these late nights where you cry until the birds sing a response, you will never stop waking up, screaming, even though you never fell asleep.
Let the dead of night hide you From things you can't forget
~ Tyler Lambert's Grave
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
what time is it, beloved? you are a cigarette smoke soul. you are a neon sign above a bar. you are a hurricane no one can stop. you don't care for time. neither do i, but is it too late to leave now?
We let the silence that's our trademark make its presence felt.
~ Color in Your Cheeks
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
you look, you see, you wish. it's a neverending cycle and you're stuck in the middle. your soul is on repeat, it's humming along with the car radio. do you hear your favourite song? no, you can't hear - you can only drown out the noises you love.
dammit. you used to love that song.
I will love you again I will love you like I used to
~ Cubs in Five
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
i remember when you kept your skeletons in your closet. you took them apart, one by one, and put them away in the corner of your mind you neglect.
(you said it's better to haunt your ghosts instead of letting them haunt you. i agree.)
you said you still felt lonely, even with the extra company. what happened to your nightmares, dear? they are the ghosts that keep chasing you, just without bone.
(don't get me wrong. i've been haunting my own ghosts for years.)
You'll be sorry, you always feel sorry later on
~ Song for My Stepfather
Spoiler! :
this is a rewrite of a poem i wrote a little bit ago. i didn't post the older one here because i wasn't proud of it, but i like this version.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
chikara I'm a sucker for beautifully formatted threads and yours is so nice and cohesive looking I'm experiencing a little poetry envy! <3 (enspoilering the rest of my comment to not interrupt your aesthetic too much)
Spoiler! :
The poetic voice you're honing here is like sharply vulnerable and I enjoy that a lot of them are targeted at a "you" which isn't always obvious whether the speaker is referring back to themselves or another person but is really interesting. You've got some great turns of phrase here too:
"poetry: always imperfect. i count flaws in dozens until i am bursting at the seams with detestation." <--- I CAN RELATE! (I'm getting a lot of these feelings this napo. there's something about poetry that sometimes feels too self-revelatory that when you don't like the poem it feels a little like self-loathing and I don't know if that's what the speaker is describing here, but geesh you are putting words to what I have been feeling a lot lately, so thank you for that.)
"i hear your hymns inching past your larynx; they sound like gentle rain" <- PERFECTION. AHhhhh this description is so on point.
"somehow, after all of these late nights where you cry until the birds sing a response, you will never stop waking up, screaming, even though you never fell asleep." <- this one feels really contradictory or unexpected to think about someone continuously waking up instead of falling asleep, and I like how you've layered this whole scene in this semi-spooky intriguing way.
and your opening poem is just AHHHHH so. good. !!
my embodiment is the crest atop this precipice, but it wouldn't be anything without you. between your body and the ground, the hollow den is depressing into a continuous vacuum.
^ love all these thoughts about kind of bodily alienation and how it relates to this other person and the metaphors you're using are angry and sad and heart breaking and all the emotions. <333
You're doing so great this first week chikara and you're already a third of the way through! And I'm enjoying reading every single poem. Keep on going! <3
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
you are the most graceful creature i've ever seen. the grey on your whiskers is a sign of maturity, a sign of years spent watching sunsets through the speckling of leaves outside my bedroom window.
i have never witnessed such delicacy like when you, still half asleep, eyes drooping slightly, maneuver under the kitchen table in search of something to eat. as you are getting older, it's getting harder to not trip on the chair's legs.
i have loved you for so long and it seems moments like these never truly end. even when your fur becomes grey and you grow fragile, being with you is better than being alone.
The most remarkable thing about coming home to you Is the feeling of being in motion again; It's the most extraordinary thing in the world
~ Going to Georgia
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
Spend your days thinking about things that are good and true and beautiful and noble, and you will become good and true and beautiful and noble. — Matthew Kelly
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Reviews: 218