Fading Autumn nights
Fall quiet and empty, and
The cold sinks in deep
Fading Autumn nights
Fall quiet and empty, and
The cold sinks in deep
Thank you for the nights you’ve spent with me –
holding me close and keeping me safe,
even when we were miles apart.
Thank you for the almost-nights on the ocean’s side,
watching the colors of the sunset glow sleepily above the setting sun,
as we got drunk on the sounds of rolling waves and floating seagulls
(and hungover with the smell of seaweed and stale water).
Thank you for the late night rides –
and for teaching me that not all music can be heard through a pair of earbuds,
as we stargazed and argued the difference between airplanes and stars.
Thank you for the nights you stayed by my side,
and talking me through those nights
those terrifying nights where my past becomes my present,
and I can no longer turn my back on the person I once was –
a person who was scared, hurt, traumatized…
for teaching me I am worth something.
Thank you for the nights I can’t remember,
Thank you for the nights you remind me what love feels like,
thank you for the nights up-late and the nights of hysteric laughter,
thank you – especially – for making me forget the nights I never want to remember,
and thank you,
for making new nights that I’ll never forget.
A wayward star
too busy chasing
its own light
to see the cosmos
in pursuing self created
in search of another
the same light
casts the same
Perry M. // K
The weight of the past
And everything bad
And every negative experience
That you’ve ever had
Comes crashing down
And lacking progress
You try to take a breath
But it seems like
Will calm you…
Feeling out of place
As you become ungrateful
And everything you see
Seems to make you mad
Irate these days
From the games
and the lies
behind smiling faces
wont fade away
so your plate stays full…
And the weight that you carry
from day to day
as you travel
From place to place
stains your already
Trying to stay sane
Dying to maintain
Working hard to make a way
But your brains dull…
So you pray for Gods
will save the day
something to believe in
In a major way
But its getting harder
Treading under water
trying to breathe
But you been decieved again
Strangled by a demon
with an angel face…. Tbc?
How can I,
unburden myself to you
when I can
barely admit the truth to myself?
- I’m drowning in these lies, in this denial.
With each breath,
I kiss myself closer
to the end.
- And I stand here, with my awaiting arms.
were not born.
They were imagined.
- And so the fairytale goes.
I wish my death
would outlive me.
- Those halting thoughts, creeping from the shadows.
The tectonic plates of my heart, shift and slip under the weight you inflict upon it. Being reduced to dirt, it is.
You could have heard it scream, only if you hadn’t dismiss, the deafening thunder as fragile sounds.
I AM UNTITLED FEELINGS
I am the silence after the storm waiting for a peaceful rain that will wash off the remnants of tragic thunder. I am the broken branches highlighted by the dark skies of the autumn. I am the last falling leaf of the orange season ready to meet my fate. I am the new leaflet ready to collect new hopes of the life from dew drops. I am the sunrise and toast fragrance mixed with morning freshness. I am the sunset behind the city lights on the moist sands of coastline. I am the imperfect scribbles of the first drafts and I am the missed rhyme in the last third of poetry.
I am all those emotions that are embedded in the heart of the memory and I am all those imprints left un-erased in the margin of the mind.
Love me on ordinary days. When the sky is grey and I am silent in a corner, trying hard not to cry. It may not be the best sight to behold in a day. But it is when I need your arms the most. So pull me closer, lock me into that warm embrace. Not because it’s my birthday or the wind feels insanely cold like December. But because I am breaking in a rapid avalanche. All the emotions bottled are finding their way out. And my heart, though it beats weakly, it is full of hope that the grey sky will turn bright again. And we can lie on our backs to watch the stars again. Love me when I can’t even have faith with the fading hues. Be here with me. Hold me as I weep because your touch makes everything feels easier. Your hands can lift my burden like a feather. I don’t know how you do that. And it enthralls me that you feel like my silver lining. My blue sky. My home.
Love me on ordinary days. When bouquet of Roses become cliché and the world only showers affection on Valentine’s Day. For even sweet nothings are slowly fading as people have grown weary of love songs. It’s getting cold. Hearts are slowly turning into steel. And I am painfully dying inside. Look me in the eye for your gaze melts the ice engulfing my soul. Making me bereft of feelings. Making me neglect the essence of standing here with you, watching the bustling metropolis throbs with life and dreams and thousand promises.
Love me on ordinary days. When my hideous smile tries to hide the lies and the grief that comes after an awkward goodbye. And all my fragile sighs, those sounds I make in the dark. They give away my inhibitions. They crack my protective shell so that I am expose with my stark nudity. In those moments I try to elope with negativity, catch me. Don’t hesitate to hold me. I may be as stubborn as hell but I will listen to your voice. For you always silence me like no one could. You always stop me from running scared. You. My safe haven. So call my name and I will hear you over the cacophony.
Love me on ordinary days. Listen to the fragile sounds of my heart shattering. Know that as it breaks into pieces, into thousand shrieking wishes, it bears your name. Pick me up piece after piece. Scope me in your arms and make me whole again. Expunge those howling sounds that make me fragile as a glass. And make me believe in happy endings. Restore my faith again. Make me the child who believes in promises again.
Love me on ordinary days. Under the grey sky, against the storm and the pouring rain. Love me. I could not ask for anything more appropriate. Just love me.
Katie, 02:00 AM
Minutes count down
I’m not ready to leave
I’m not ready
(For the shortest and longest tragedy)
Like a temporary suspension of my beliefs,
Your petals will unfold in a way that shocks
The child in me; you will reveal the inventions
And imitations in the greatest works of art.
You will forgive me for commencing
In medias res. You will inspire my intensity.
You—will not desert me.
What crime was committed when I stared at your eyes; pondered on the depth concealed within their blackness? Was me locking gazes with you appeared felonious? Have you been offended by the manner I looked? Like I was probing, searching for something. Perhaps a soul I’ve been wanting to catch. A treasure buried beneath your retinas. Even behind bushy brows, the truth of my guilt can easily be proved. The intent to gain can suffice through my overt acts. Beyond reasonable doubt.
And I will willingly take the stand so I can spill my truth to the world. How I actually stole glances of you for a long time. Near or far, I always managed to look; has always found a way despite unfavorable circumstances. For I seem to gravitate towards you like you’re a tenacious force drawing me closer.
No, I won’t pay a counsel to turn the table in my favor. I will talk, willingly. Take the chance and tell my truth to the aloof jury. I won’t prepare any defense nor hold my silence. I will raise my hand in total surrender and confess the truth, nothing but the truth to the hushed court.
I did steal glances of you in several instances. Deliberately. And in one occassion, I managed to stare at you deeply while holding my breath. As though it’s a matter of life and death. Now that you have caught me, what crime was committed, if any? Don’t worry, I won’t try to contest whatever it is that you charge me. But should you allege theft against me, I will try to raise this rebuttal as lovingly as possible: Is it still stealing when it’s already stolen?
I stated it outrightly. I stole glances of you baby before I finally managed to get closer and aimed for your heart. And the best part is that you just sat there and let me.
I saw all your beauty
But now that I’m noticing the moss
Don’t tell me that’s beautiful too
It just messy and it will make me slip and fall
And you are not worth it
Nobody is worth it
I mean, of course it’s okay to have moss
But to pretend like you don’t?
To pretend that you can’t be draining and toxic and shitty,
Even 5 year olds are better at telling it like it is
And you’re decades older so what the hell is your excuse?
If all the songs you asked me to listen to were drugs, then I may already be suffering from addiction. Or an overdose. I play them everyday and still can’t get enough. Irrevocably, I am drawn closer, not to the melody or the lyrics,but to the soul you’re allowing me to discover through them. It’s just too beautiful for my mortal eyes to behold.
-All the songs,
I find myself waiting, airless, for the first snowfall
for the thin fragile sound of a voice against muffled snowflakes, for a world blanked clean
of remnants of dead things.
chin up, princess, or the crown falls off
chin up, princess, keep up appearances, you can’t let them know that you’re hurting, you can’t give yourself a break from the weight, don’t you know that the crown is permanent?
don’t you know that even though your neck is aching, you can’t take it off, you’ve accepted it and you were born with it and now you need to hold it every second of every day, and i know you’d love to take it off, but princess, you can’t
don’t you know that you’re perfect? don’t you know that you have to be perfect every single moment of every day? don’t you know that perfect isn’t how you are but a state that must be maintained constantly, don’t you know that nobody will think you’re perfect if you let the crown fall just a little bit?
don’t you love being the princess, princess? don’t you love the crown, you should, it means that you’re doing great, it means that you’re the best, shouldn’t you be happy? if you wish that someone else could hold onto the responsibility for even a second, then do you even deserve to be queen?
chin up, princess, you can’t let the crown fall for even a second, because it might mean that you’re not worth it
Messed up brain,
Sick and twisted,
What is real
And what is not?
Is this just another