softpiglet

[softpiglet]

Violet

I swear, flowers bloomed all the places you spilled yourself

In the morning I woke choking on roses lavender in the veins of my eyes and I cried chrysanthemum

Daisies lingered between my floorboards a lilly poking from my fingernail I picked the petals one by one" "She loves me, she loves me, She loves me"

My toaster no longer works, overgrown with moss and thyme and the faucet spilled Fall leaves so I showered myself in clover

And when I peeked out the window the world smelled like you your pollen dancing atop my nose the sweetest honey, honey

I wanted to find you in the clouds but you were beneath my feet your vines climbing my spine I let you crack me open

like fingertips along my neck kissing carnations across my chest your hair was a forest of chamomile and I was the earth waiting

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #spilled poetry #spilled poem #writers of tumblr #new poets society #love poem #wlw #sapphic #lgbtq #girlslikeus #trans woman #t4t

[softpiglet]

Magnolia

The dimple of your wrist is so familiar like I've explored your hand in a past life

Maybe I trekked across your leylines took refuge from the desert in the oasis of your palms like the smallest bird

I've kissed your hangnails by the sea lips traveling up your arm to meet the splash of heat from your freckled cheeks

I think I could grow here wrap a wing around your waist and hold on, living off the berries that fall from your chestnut hair

And when you smile the sun opens up And when you laugh your eyes blossom

I think I could get used to this to loving you and all your roots

#poetry #poem #wlw #spilled ink #spilled poem #poets of tumblr #new poets society #love poem #sapphic #sapphic poetry #love poems #transgender #trans woman #trans girl #girlslikeus #gay #lgbt #lgbtq

[softpiglet]

palm reading

There are rivers on my hands the night you steal me-- lifeline crossing wisdom, tragedy bifurcating marriage.

"You'll have three kids one day," you say, knowing you are not the last. "And there's a storm on your left hand, but the right is clear. Did you remember to wash one, but not the other?" You tease me.

The last time I was on my back I wanted to run, hide my meteorite body under the covers. I pushed, but couldn't yell. You don't need to push-- I pull you in.

Your nails are unstitching all the rivers, the points diving deeper each time. "This one means you'll break lots of hearts. And this one-- you might be famous." Our toes tangle and stretch. I wonder if there's anything you can't read.

"Do you remember the first time we met," you ask me, "when the creek ran all the way up my thighs, and I, yours?" Even now you're a wash, speaking in tongues as I forget all the words. This is where two points meet. This is where my path crosses yours.

#wlw #sapphic #sapphic poem #sapphic poetry #lesbian #lgbt #lgbtq #girlslikeus #trans girl #transgender #spilled ink #spilled poetry #poets of tumblr #new poets society #love poem #trans woman #mtf #gay

[softpiglet]

Spirit Desire

One day You meet a pretty girl Whose freckles glow in the sun And whose eyes you spend hours gazing into Like small beacons in the dark Your heart following across highways And torn mountains With soot on your skin

You feed her poems every night Recite them in your head Practice them over and over Making sure you don't miss a single word The blush in your trembling voice And maybe she blushes back

You dream of her Seven hundred miles away Dream of touching her wrists to yours In an ancient dance women have held Since the first was born Waltzing with an imaginary lover Under the moon

The way she says your name fills you Like water in the summer sun A small lake pouring down your little throat And you are so small And her blooming body burns Around your wet fingers

She is so beautiful And so far away You wonder if being near her Will be the end of you But what a lovely way to go A vampire with dry veins A girl who wants and wants To never not be kissed

#wlw #sapphic #lesbian #lgbtq #lgbt #poetry #poem #love poem #spilled ink #new poets society #poets of tumblr #gay poem #gay #girlslikeus #transgender #trans woman

[softpiglet]

I want to be a jellyfish And let the ocean current run through me My body strands of faded light Like soft daikon Floating in a soup I'm ready for the universe to devour me With a quiet crunch Divide me into pieces Of translucent dream And floating wish I think I belong here Watching the moon drown Over and over

#Poetry #Poem #Spilled ink #Poets of tumblr #new poets society

[softpiglet]

Candles make my eyes water. Even the unscented ones sting a little, like staring at the sun for too long, squinting in the brightness. I’m burning at both ends and I’m smiling the whole time. I like to light up every room I walk into, like to laugh until my sides hurt. Then I go home to sit in the dark in silence. I’m alive in the same way a fly trapped in a web is alive, still breathing as its organs liquefy, the spider’s silhouette slowly filling every scale of its eyes.

I am surrounded, and I am laughing in the dark.

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #new poets society #poets of tumblr

[softpiglet]

The rain cocoons me on my walk back from work. It’s storming on my birthday and my skin is sticky with rain when I get home. I peel my shirt off and let the cold air into my lungs. My apartment is filled with soft things– rounded pig plushies and a polar bear cube and the round orb of a guava fruit. I feel less lonely with a thousand eyes staring at me. I feel more loved holding colorful, unbreathing things.

No one says a word, and I am safe here.

#poetry #poem #scrap #poets of tumblr #spilled ink #new poets society

[softpiglet]

Have I fallen asleep or are you a cloud around my hips, still growing a faint storm whispering words in my ear

#poem #poetry #spilled ink #poets of tumblr #new poets society #scrap

[softpiglet]

In my dreams I’m holding you like an apple ready to drop my arms around your branches

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[softpiglet]

What does it mean when you’re constantly dreaming about running down long hallways? Is there a special symbolism in the movie theater carpets? This triangle means sexual frustration. That abstract square is the time I threw up in the backseat of my mother’s car. This circle is the moon. 

I’m always chasing something or someone. I am always watching the light from the street stream into my room, wondering if you’ll knock on my door. I want it to be you and I want it to be no one, open the door and my unsteady breaths echo down the stairwell. 

I like the feeling of disappointment. I can feel it between my fingertips, can hold it like a tired phone. 

I’m forgetting you and I hate it.

#poetry #poem #writing #spilled ink #poets of tumblr #new poets society #scrap

[softpiglet]

In the water I am holy, cold and sharp and my bones have no weight. I float on the surface of the pool and watch the auroras cast up onto the ceiling from the lights below me. My hair spills out in every direction like an octopus, reaching for the universe and all around me are echoes of voices, people splashing and laughing and playing and I am nothing.

My eyes are sore so I close them. I imagine that I am drifting far away, past my childhood home where I learned too much about my body, past the classrooms where I was too quiet and didn’t know how to smile and one day at snack time I ate peanut butter and my throat swelled up and I didn’t learn how to laugh until I was thirteen. 

I’m gone now, the current taking me under, my lungs full like soft jello and hot like fresh coffee. It’s bitter but it’s good.

#poetry #poem #writing #spilled ink #new poets society #poets of tumblr #scrap

[softpiglet]

My skin buzzes from your touch. I have so many bumps and ridges, dots of scar and valleys stretched like canyons of pink. I call them tiger stripes but sometimes they’re more like deep cuts from an invisible hand, the bite of my mother’s screeching voice when I’m trying to focus on you and the things you’re doing to me. 

You say i’m beautiful but sometimes I feel like flesh squeezed into a jar, and I wonder what you see in my glassy exterior and squishy insides. You are whispering things in my ear and I can’t figure out the words but my spine twitches and I am here and my mother is far, far away, down a long stretch of highway and behind several doors and she is gone.

#poetry #poem #scrap #spilled ink #writing #poets of tumblr #new poets society

[softpiglet]

My eyes are soft in my palms, like plums, sour and sweet. I dig my fingers into the corners, trying to unearth the dark that spills out from my vision. Rainbow gasoline flashes of light and bitter dust that’s been stuck in my pupil since birth. 

I’m gonna find it if it kills me.

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #new poets society #poets of tumblr #scrap

[softpiglet]

Andromeda

your freckles are like a doe's from touching the sun too many times and our noses fit together like waves against a beach I trace the line of your neck with my teeth lips aching against your chest wanting more every cute girl deserves a reward for being so cute and I am so hungry I think I've been starving I'm drooling in all the wrong places it's hard to stand now so I get on my knees and you're so soft-- is every girl this soft? you're so warm here-- is this where all your thoughts spill out? you taste like summer and white wine kisses (I'll dream of it later when I'm back in my own bed) I love your hand in mine tightening around my fingers I love it when you say my name between gasping breaths every freckle on your body glows when your voice rings out in words that aren't words in a language only we know

#poetry #poem #love poem #spilled ink #poets of tumblr #new poets society #writing #gay #lgbt #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #girls like us #girlslikeus #lgbtq

[softpiglet]

(trigger warning: self-harm)

I’ve been dreaming of you again lately. I think it’s the hormones. The doctor says that sometimes changes start happening again after a year of rest. It’s funny how bodies work like that. 

I wonder if you look different now. If your hair is longer, or if you cut it all off. Buzzed it and let the sun scorch where it wants, the winter wind freezing the tips of your exposed ears. I never got to kiss your ear lobes, never got to bite that tender spot on your neck that you’re always trying to hide with hats and hoodies. 

My therapist says I’m getting better. I’m becoming more myself, more the woman I’ve always been, but I feel more like a little girl. It’s natural, I’ve heard, with second puberty. It’s like growing up all over again, only a little less confusing. I think my new boobs would fit nicely in your palm. They always looked so small, like they’d catch acorns in the fall, then grow trees in the spring. 

I never got to keep your hands warm on a cold bus ride to the store, never tasted the salt on your skin after a day at the beach, never saw the morning set the tiny hairs on your arms alight like moss burning. I wonder if the leylines of your palms still run rivers deep, if you’ve grown more branches and tributaries with time. 

I still love you. I’m always going to love you. I never stop loving people, even when it hurts. My friends tell me it’s a good thing, that i’m not losing parts of myself. I’m just growing my heart bigger and bigger. It’s a nice thought, but sometimes it feels like you captured me– surrounded me with pretty words and honey tones and I heard your voice and that was it, I was done for. And I’ve been dead ever since. Not that I’ve ever really been alive. 

Girls like us, we’re living on borrowed time. We’re zombies. Our hearts beat and we shuffle along, arms dragging across the pavement. We’re beautiful like that, knuckles bleeding, leaving a little trail behind us. Ants and stray dogs clean up the mess, feed their kids with it. Lay eggs and birth pups and roll in mud and kiss each other and keep living off our pain. It’s beautiful like that. 

I’m sorry I haven’t written you in awhile. It just hurts to think about anything. I like to play this game with myself, like to pretend that I’m okay and I’m doing just fine. I go to work and I smile and I laugh. I kiss other pretty girls and sometimes I touch them too. But they’re not you. I know that, but maybe at least I can pretend I don’t miss you? 

I keep going longer and longer stretches without thinking of you, but when I do it still hurts like burning my arm in the oven at work. My arms are covered in dark stripes now. It’s always an accident, but sometimes I wonder if I do it on purpose, so I can feel a little closer to you. Is that fucked up? I know it’s fucked up. It doesn’t hurt except in the moment, and then I remember to get pissed off at myself. I should have been paying attention. 

It’s getting late now. I feel a little closer to you writing this. I wonder if you’re doing the same thing. 

Love you still.

#poetry #spilled ink #writing #rambling

[softpiglet]

Original text here.

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[softpiglet]

Audio of myself reading this poem. My voice is shot today but I’m trying to do more stuff like this for 2022.

#Poetry #poem #spilled ink #writing #spilled poetry #spilled poem #new poets society #spoken word #poets of tumblr #trauma #cptsd vent #lgbtq #trans #transgender #mtf #girlslikeus