i speak through the crack in the closet door. she would've found it funny if i stayed. i think of her sandpaper skin and stained duvet because they are the only things i remember about her.
i imagine a situation where i never lost my love and kept my appetite. everything is so clear until it suddenly isn't. the last coherent thought i ever had was when i was in high school and the whole world was against me.
you know, when i felt alive.
i can't make this sound poetic anymore. she sleeps with her jeans on and i feel like i'm looking for something that isn't there.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
the years have not yet caught up with me. my mother holds me in her palms and simply stares. 20 years of withdrawals are etched on her knuckles.
my father dwells on the couch like an animal. his nose bleeds in his sleep. he looks at me differently than he looks at my sisters. i feel his guilt stuck in my throat.
i was an angry child. the parallels jar me, but i don’t have to go to school this time.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
whatever is inside of you lives in everyone. sometimes there’s no one to blame and sometimes there’s no one that’s innocent. you need to grow now. you need to move now. you’re not enslaved to this cycle; you’re married to it. it will never love you back. all of this is entirely your fault and nothing can be salvaged.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
you are like me if i was something gentler. i say thank you for putting up with me. you know how i always keep things inside, bottle them up. i know why you stir in your sleep. if i were you, the guilt would eat away at me too.
you shrivel me smaller than i already am. i try not to let you see it because i know the kinds of things you are capable of. i see you sitting next to me. all you ever do is point and laugh; sometimes i'm there, but it's mostly when i'm not.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
everything looks prettier fragmented. i have pieces of you lodged in my ribcage, my lower back, the bottoms of my feet. all of it catches the light as i move.
(i imagine myself in your family's old home. we made it back before midnight. nothing has come between us.)
i know exactly how your heart beats, how you breathe. i once memorized all your dips and your hills and your plains. i think, just maybe, i know you a little too well to be comfortable.
(i imagine your mother still likes me, lets us hang out alone in your room. this time, in my dreams, i remember to lock the door.)
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
i could've sworn i heard you moving around under the floorboards.
heartache is ghosts in the walls and other obtrusive matters. something unfurls right before me, unrecognizable, aside from the eyes. they were always the same. he looks healthier, i say. healthier half beat to death.
the sun always rises in front of me and sets in the back. i let myself grieve just to feel it.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
when a son is raised by his father, he will always carry that burden with him.
i’ve been forced to learn how to be comfortable placing my life in other hands. the truth is that i’m not clean and i never really have been since the beginning in any capacity. it is over when it’s over. i think i’ve always been chasing something unimaginable.
there is something about this that haunts me beyond the ability of words. manhood ushered in change deep in my core, something far greater than personal growth. my father told me, without words, it would be all consuming. i'm afraid he was right.
i think it changed me in all the wrong ways.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I am spinning from reading the sheer MARVEL that your thread is. your poetry flows like music, and you have such a GRIP over your language, I genuinely don't know how you manage to make every single poem feel so meaningful and multi layered, and I will beg grappling with some of your lines here for many, MANY days to come
tell me your favorite song. i will spend my nights wishing i wrote it.
where there is potential, there is everything that keeps us mortal
let me down gently
AND THE ENTIRE POEM AFTER
my mother holds me in her palms and simply stares
healthier half beat to death
Some of my favorite lines from your thread! [Though I would quote this entire thread right back at you if I could
You've done so splendidly <3333
Viola Tricolor also known as wild pansy, Johnny Jump up, heartsease, heart's ease, heart's delight, tickle-my-fancy, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, come-and-cuddle-me, three faces in a hood, love-in-idleness, and pink of my john-
i have absolutely loved following your thread! thank you so much for sharing all this with us. some of the imagery was so special and really, truly amazingly written. nice work, friend! post some stuff so i can review it <3
she says she loves me, poetry and all. i need to learn to make peace with that.
although small in the scheme of things, these words will one day mean something much greater. she says i speak in tongues. i tell her i was born to be a poet and that i can't control myself.
i will carry this around until it destroys me. i think i could make her real proud.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
i am loving the note you're ending on here chi. "she says she loves me, poetry and all. /// i think i could make her real proud." <3
the idea of someone falling in love with a "poet" and what that means is explored really interestingly in your thread and I think is pretty compelling and comes across as something that's had a lot of thought put behind it.
also: "everything looks prettier fragmented. i have pieces of you lodged in my ribcage," the juxtaposition of these two lines and the imagery in both of them is just such a terrific set-up for that poem.
Really good stuff here, thanks for sharing this month!
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
I think that was when I began to realize that reputation isn't everything. I should focus less about how others perceive me and more about what makes me happy. Because, in the end, I have to live with myself. — Seraphina
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