#crush by richard siken

[folkloregirlfriend]

yes girl you are so [if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more] [hands are unbearably beautiful] [i'll take care of you it's rotten work not to me not if it's you] [if you are intolerable let me be the one to tolerate you] [i could recognise him by touch alone] [i love you i want us both to eat well] [on purpose i love you on purpose] [whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same] [i am half agony half hope] [you have bewitched me body and soul and i love love love you] [he is half of my soul as the poets say] [i'm sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for but i'm so lonely] [i love you most ardently] [let me stay tender hearted despite despite despite] [someone has to leave first this is a very old story there is no other version of this story] [mostly i want to be kind] [tell me how all this and love too will ruin us] [you said i killed you haunt me then] [someone somewhere can you understand me a little love me a little] [i will love you as misfortune loves orphans as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong] [sorry about the blood in your mouth i wish it was mine] [who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me] can we kiss now

#tumblr lit nerd core #jane austen #emma #hands #the song of achilles #madeline miller #emily bronte #wuthering heights #persuasion #pride and prejudice #fitzwilliam darcy #elizabeth bennet #little women #jo march #mary oliver #richard siken #crush by richard siken #sylvia plath #the unabridged journals of sylvia plath #lemony snicket #jenny slate #little weirds #words #poems #poetry #english #literature #english literature #poets #web weaving

[thequeerlibrarian]

Poetry that gave me way too many feels

Crush by Richard Siken

#poetry #poems and poetry #book quotes #booklr #books #my post #crush #crush by richard siken #richard siken #bookblr #lgbtq #queer poetry

[ro-sham-no]

an excerpt from "dirty valentine" - richard siken

Dean touches the scar on his side and pretends it's the skin of a lanky, not-so-little kid who had (has) his big brother's heart sequestered inside his own bony ribcage but didn't (doesn't) know it.

Sam touches the scar on his side and pretends it's the skin of a young man who occupied (occupies) the space behind his little brother's sternum but didn't (doesn't) know it.

A short story about a pair of twin side-wounds.

--

It's been a week since Sam left for Stanford. For so long, it had been Sam-and-Dean; entirely entangled, perfectly synchronized. But now they are a monumental, practically unfathomable distance away from each other for the first time in their lives.

But their synchronicity doesn't just disappear now that they're apart. They have grown up so entwined that they emit the same frequency - unrecognizable to anyone but each other.

They are pieces of fabric sewn together after being shorn from the same cloth. Their lives spent constantly being shredded apart and getting their own threads woven back into the other until their fabrics were indistinguishable. Nothing so banal as time and space would ever be able to disrupt their resonance. Of course, neither of them knows this.

Their combined frequency reaches out to itself, stretching between the coasts. Unconsciously, they listen to it.

Somewhere on the East Coast, it's 5:56 am, and Dean Winchester is in the shower. He smooths a hand down his skin. Sliding it down his ribs, catching on a jagged scar - his mind flashes to the matching one he knows resides on Sam's own skin. Connected, synchronized, even through individual, independently-gotten hurts.

Sam had gotten his own side wound two weeks prior - the idiot kept tearing his stitches, otherwise it would've been mostly pinked-over by the time Dean got his. Dean's hadn't even been that bad, not really. He likely could've gotten away with just taping it shut using some clever bandage work and being cautious for a little while, no stitches needed. But Sam had just started doing stitches on his own, and he'd offered to sew Dean up, eager to return Dean's favor of repeatedly re-stitching Sam's skin back together oh-so-carefully. Of course Dean couldn't say no to the offer.

And if Dean noticed immediately - even as he received the injury - that it would match Sam's? If he'd sat subtly hunched over to one side so that Sam's stitches would be just slightly too tight and would scrunch up when Dean straightened, misaligning the healing wound into a raised line? Well, Sam wasn't experienced enough to know the difference.

And if Dean was purposefully careless in the coming weeks with how far he stretched out his side, pulling and tugging on the too-tight stitches just enough to make sure it would scar up, jagged and pronounced, just like his little brother's was turning out to be? Connecting him and Sam, forever? Well, Sam didn't need to know that, either.

Somewhere in a dorm on-campus at Stanford University, on the West Coast, it's 8:56 am, and Sam Winchester is in the shower. He smooths a hand down his skin. Sliding it down his ribs, catching on a jagged scar - pronounced from repeated abuse where he had accidentally torn out Dean's careful stitches again and again, unused to his newly lanky body at the time. His mind flashes to the matching one he knows resides on Dean's own skin. The one that started out so relatively minor, but that somehow had stayed around for such a long time.

Dean didn't let Sam take out the stitches until far past the time they should've been removed. When he finally did concede, they were stuck in Dean's skin, crusted and grown over. Sam had insisted on getting a warm washcloth to press over the stitches to loosen the skin, or loosen the stitches, or loosen something, because Sam couldn't stand the sight of Dean's skin stretching and tearing so unnaturally around the thread as he pulled. Dean wouldn't hold the cloth there himself - said he didn't need it, he could just pull the stitches out by his own damn self - but they were Sam's first stitches that he'd done all by himself, he wanted to be the one to take them out.

So Dean had sat, ever gracious in the face of Sam learning something new to do with hunting, and Sam had held the cloth against his side for what seemed like hours. It was probably 5 minutes, at most, but Sam swore it was an eternity. Sitting there, warm, wet cloth under his fingers, which sat on top of Dean's now warm, wet skin, which stretched over his warm, wet ribs, which protected his warm, wet lungs, which- so on and so forth, during this eternity. When Sam finally pulled the cloth away, he swore Dean shivered. It was just from the sudden temperature difference, surely (except that the washcloth had long gone cold).

The stitches came out easier after that, but still tugged and pulled at the skin they held together for so long. Dean didn't so much as twitch, except when Sam would adjust his hand on Dean's side to pull a different section of skin taught as he worked.

And if Sam took what even he knew was too much time, not to spare his brother any pain but rather to keep running his hands over this extension of himself that would be a part of Dean, forever? Marking him as Sam's, forever? Well, Dean didn't need to know that. He would probably just assume Sam was being overly cautious since it was his first time.

And if Sam noticed the similarity between their two side wounds and couldn't stop thinking about it, dreaming about it, secretly writing about it on papers he burned immediately after? Well, Dean didn't need to know that, either.

It's 5:58 am. It's 8:58 am. Two showers run simultaneously across the two coasts. A three-hour time difference between them, and yet they share this moment of naked vulnerability.

Dean touches the scar on his side and pretends it's the skin of a lanky, not-so-little kid who had (has) his big brother's heart sequestered inside his own bony ribcage but didn't (doesn't) know it. The space it leaves is refreshing and loyal and heady with devotion. It helps him breathe, his lungs filled with the reminder of his heart's keeper. The motel room's alarm clock, sitting on the bedside table, ticks past the hour. It's 6 a.m.

Sam touches the scar on his side and pretends it's the skin of a young man who put far too much weight on his own shoulders. A young man who occupied (occupies) the space behind his little brother's sternum but didn't (doesn't) know it. His presence is safe and warm and strong. It helps his heart beat, comforted by the ever-constant reassurance of his big brother. The dorm room's alarm clock, sitting on the bedside table, ticks past the hour. It's 9 a.m.

Their thoughts ring out over their own private radio wave, synchronized: I hope his scar never fades.

#re: the wincest bible #aka #crush by richard siken #hopefully this makes sense narratively... #( #spn #wincest #samdean #gay yearning #stanford era #dirty valentine #dirty valentine by richard siken #) #EDIT: bruhhhh no one was gonna tell me i wrote “STANDFORD”????? #y'all are all FAKE AS HELL (jk <3)

[marenlees]

it’s literally THEM

#datvd #these violent delights #pauljulian #paul fleischer #julian fromme #richard siken #crush #crush by richard siken #poetry #driving not washing #books

[abnormalpsychology]

who up letting the enormity of their desire disgust them

#I know I am!!!!!! #everyone reply going ‘girl meeee 🤪🤪🤪’ #bbge.text #richard siken #crush by richard siken

[ejunkiet]

crush by richard siken has always stuck with me, and this is a statue in my favourite park in the city.

noticed today that someone had given her a rose wreath.

#london #richard siken #crush by richard siken #i want to tell this story without having to be in it #poetry

[kashmirichaiwithmehr]

.

#bought 2 poetry books im so excited to read them hehehehe #crush by richard siken #and wound from the mouth of a wound by torrin a greathouse #i also need to read the other books i have 😭😭 #mehrtalks

[mdemn]

because it was my brand the last time i was on tumblr, i will continue to be on my bullshit and post excerpts from crush by richard siken and apply them to the mafia trilogy.

for example:

vito promising joe he won’t die in the war because they’ve been through too much shit to not die together, side be side, sharing the same pool of blood. reiterating how their hearts beat together, no matter what. and joe believes him because vito doesn’t break a promise.

or my favourite doomed-by-the-narrative henry tomasino who always knew he’d die before he was old so he said to himself he would always be ready yet he meets vito & joe and suddenly every day he’s waking up praying for one more day while simultaneously looking at them for a moment too long wondering just which one will be his undoing and finding he wouldn’t mind, either way.

imagine: someone’s pulling a gun, and you’re jumping into the middle of it. you didn’t think you’d feel this way.

#i could make this about mde too but the pain is so great #mafia 2 #mafia trilogy #mafia video game #vito/joe #vito/henry #henry/joe #joe/vito/henry #mafia 2 trio #richard siken #post: poetry #richard siken quotes #richard siken poetry #crush by richard siken #vito scaletta #joe barbaro #henry tomasino

[richardsikens-secretlovechild]

do NOT mention Richard Siken around me 🙅🏾‼️i WILL start to exhibit signs

#im not even kidding #i feel physically ill at ever mention of him or his works #like have you ever loved smth so much it just makes you feel like your skin is melting off?? #this is so stupid #my throat feels like it’s closing up #if i ever get my hands on physical copies of his poetry books it’s over for everybody #fixation so bad i might die idk #richard siken #war of the foxes #crush by richard siken

[shakespeare-smoocher]

Siken returns!!!!

#poetry #poeteyisnotdead #richard siken #crush by richard siken #i am so not ready for this

[pretty-emo-dad]

Byler 😄😄😄 please stop paralleling Crush poems 😄😄😄

#stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #richard siken #crush by Richard siken #for my sanity pls byler #pretty please #it was one thing with the infamous ur in a car with a beautiful boy #but now wishbone and planet of love

[orgasming-caterpillar]

Richard siken is like you are in love with a boy sorry about the blood in your mouth it's like a religion it's terrifying no one will ever want to sleep with you you take the things you love and you tear them apart then your wanted pasta you are ready to die in this swimming pool a dark-haired man in a rented bungalow is licking the whiskey from the back of your wrist I do believe his mouth his heaven kiss me here and here and here in the dream i dont tell anyone you put your head in my lap I'd just as soon kill you myself and i thank him for tearing my heart out of my chest

#richard siken #poetry #crush by richard siken

[thequeerlibrarian]

JOMP Challenge | November 5 | Books & food

Started Crush by Richard Siken in honour of Nov 5th

#jompbpc #justonemorepage #nov 5th #spn #richard siken #booklr #books #books & food #poems and poetry #poertry #my post #5th november #supernatural #crush by richard siken

[sunriseantebellum]

“a cento for richard siken’s ‘crush’”

I.

look at the light through the windowpane. we know how the light works, we know where the sound is coming from. the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. it’s thinking of love. tonight you’re thinking of cities under crowns of snow and I stare at you like I’m looking through a window, counting birds, night spilling over them like clumsy hands in a dark room.

II.

the light is no mystery, the mystery is that there is something to keep the light from passing through. your world doesn’t make sense. the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, the orange juice and toast of it. in the dream I don’t tell anyone, four dreams in a row: a sudden glow.

III.

imagine this: you’re pulling the car over. somebody’s waiting. make a wish. make something happen. there is the road, and there is the story of where the road goes. it’s night. it’s noon. he’s driving. he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and everything’s okay. close your eyes.

— j.a.

escapril day 30: it’s getting dark

#jade writes #escapril #escapril 2022 #napowrimo #napowrimo 2022 #glopowrimo #glopowrimo 2022 #poem #poetry #spilled ink #cento #found poem #richard siken #siken #crush #richard siken crush #crush by richard siken

[midwestern-nights]

“blood crush triptych” by me :3

#watercolor #art #original art #richard siken #crush by richard siken #crush #gay #gay art #poetry #painting #emo art

[been-a-girl]

reparations

I hurt you.

You got upset.

I said I'm sorry.

But it wasn't enough.

Let me try again:

My deepest, sincerest, most life-changing apologies,

that my body did not create you,

my womb did not form your cells

into the shape they are today.

I never soothed your nightmares

or held you when you wept.

Your cuts and bruises never felt my lips,

praises of bravery tainted by my microphone.

I'm sorry that you're older than me

and this world didn't allow me to be

your terrible mother.

I guess that means I owe you.

But I failed at that as well.

Never sucked your dick.

Or stroked your fragile hair.

Last time you came over

you wouldn't even share my bed.

With a little more patience,

I would have given you everything.

You held my heart already,

my body was sure to follow.

Now I see your name in passing

and when the rage dies down.

I still think sorry

that I didn't kiss you

when I had the chance.

#first time i'm posting my own poetry anywhere #very exciting #can you tell i've been reading #crush by richard siken #this was supposed to be a lot angrier #but as i was writing i got soft again #stupid feelings #oh well i can always rewrite when i get angry again #pansy does poetry #poems #about friendship #or love #or grief?