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Untold Strangers

Knock on the first, where

I saw a stranger on a hearse,

Their lifeline, a line on the sea.

It was another key, I picked

on the floor of sweet velvet carpets,

To a wistful door where I stayed

day and night in a casket.

It was a story to tell,

Yet, how could I? My lips were sealed

shut, my lips that I poisioned

with a smile that misspells my name.

I hid it in my disheartened eyes.

So look into it because I broke my wrist,

A language I owned, ceased to exist.

/Monday. Tuesday, Wednesday/

A rotten body halfway to the door.

Knocks on the door, I can’t ignore whilst

a thousand languages seemed to bore

shame in my eyes and mind.

I was gagged. Silent. Anxious.

/Thursday. Friday. Saturday./

Knock on the second and I’ll answer the

call where I welcomed the line of a decayed

achiever, remember the line? the sea?

I used the key and ran on it.

Strangers from the past.

Strangers from the future.

Strangers from the present.

Strangers from my own house.

Strangers that I met in my own heart.

Which language would they prefer?

Which language would I prefer?


I don’t want to lose them, and yet,

A stem that branches into a mayhem

is the shame that my eyes bore.

They are now stuck into a book,

Where I can look without running away from it.

I’ll write. I know I’ll write.


I lost track of the cycle.

I lost track of the time.

So, I sat and waited for February.

-Amery Crag

0 notes

Don’t cheapen it.
See where it goes
Lose where it goes
Find it, lost
Find it, by losing.

Set goals.
Hurt your chest.
A psychology
A game of miss and match
Perfect boys
Perfect girls
Internet porn
Virginity death
Abdominal muscle
Cinema weed

I was a boy and a girl, once.

I was an envelope.

I was something you used.

Now I set my goals
Sew my chest; remember and grow.

I am a boy and a girl.
I can sit up.
I can love you.
I can lie down.
I can sing.

I can paint my nails.
And I can break a window.
By accident.


6 notes

Mob mentality

Torches and pitchforks

Weapons of mass destruction

Push back against the pushback

Lemmings don’t do themselves in

More Disney movie magic

Imagine that, cameras can be

Unreliable narrators

Fairy tales woven into reality

Pull the threads and watch

The unraveling or snore under

Weighted blankets of complacency

Keep your hands and feet inside

At all times–it’s one bumpy ride

No fast pass no all access

Fall in line to do it again

Wait hours to spend exorbitantly

On what you are told is in demand

Who cares about the price

The hollowing out inside

Nothing beats the high of being

On-trend left fighting frivolously

Another face lost-

In-crowd, right?

25 notes

Pardon me for chasing this illusion,
Perhaps, a reverie
To ridicule,
But more than a
Laissez-fair liaison,
I seek the true
Coup de grâce of a fool.

Why would I
Put a film noir on a spool;
Watch a heart sabotaged
Sans jubilee?

Je veux l'amour; take me

Higher, petite

26-1-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

28 notes

Trinh’s Poem

How long does it take change to develop

What envelops one to take on such a tough task

One that is too much to ask of one

A burden meant to be held by many

Dreamt within the depths of hell

Yet held onto like a glimpse of sunlight

Trying to fight through the window tint

Which superhero do you recommend

Who do you know that has that much strength

Trinh is the only one I believe can break the chains

She’s the one who fights until she faints

She’s the one who doesn’t feign what she feels

You may think change is impossible

But she never second guessed that it’s real

In a world where woman must scratch and claw

For an ounce of awe that isn’t tied to her beauty

She bangs and bashes until the wall that clouds our view becomes debris

and crashes

And we see women and men like you and me

and what was history, becomes ashes

She isn’t the type to just pose for likes

She types verbs and instills action within her words

And when the roads become wet with dread and stress

And the rain pounds down on her weary head

She never loses traction, nor wrecks

Or rests, She reps her family crest until her very last breathe

She has moonlight for a smile

Even when night lasts for a while

She never succumbs to the darkness

Ahead she charges

So even if you’re scared of a future you may not see

Within her light, our faith can breathe

2 notes

When I tell you I am struggling,

I don’t want you to tell me 

“At least you aren’t stuck at

work when you have literally 

no energy to be around people.”

You’ve told me I can come to you,

but I’m having a hard time and it

feels like you just turn it back to you.

I’m not saying you aren’t allowed to struggle.

But don’t invalidate my struggles

just because you’re hurting too.

L.S. 1/25/21

2 notes

Sometimes I’ll write up a post I’m really proud of and tumblr will be like: meh. 2 notes.

But then I’ll post “✨women✨” and tumblr will be like: yes perfect wow have all the notes for your artistry

And like, I get it, but really?

4 notes
<div> —  T.M.J </div><span><p>All My Heart and Soul</p><p>I know now<br> what you meant all those years ago.<br> You were heading out<br> so far away from small town woes.</p><p>Though I begged not to go you were stuck on leavin’.<br> A thousand miles in your shoes couldn’t help me see it.</p><p>You were long gone<br> before you’d even said goodbye.<br> Cause I was wrong<br> not giving you a reason to try.</p><p>I’m face to face with my reflection counting the ways<br> that I failed you and all I’m left with now is pain.</p><p>In my dreams<br> I concede.<br> I give you all my heart and soul.<br> You’re my want.<br> You’re my need.<br> I give you all my heart and soul.</p><p>You saw me<br> even though I hid behind my walls.<br> You were so happy<br> but I stole away your will to fall.</p><p>Now I see you at every turn on this winding road.<br> So I close my eyes and and wish I’d never let you go.</p><p>Cause in my dreams<br> I concede.<br> I give you all my heart and soul.<br> You’re my want.<br> You’re my need.<br> I give you all my heart and soul.<br> Oh, I pray<br> on my knees.<br> Let me give you all my heart and soul.<br> You’re my life.<br> Set me free.<br> I give you all my heart and soul.</p><p>I know now<br> what you meant all those years ago…</p></span>
1 notes

Appropriation of miles on the map from the Cherokee
Appropriation of nouns and names from their vocabulary

Winding river

Tacked above the door for all to see
“Welcome to the state of Tanasi

2 notes

let me throw my miniscule

message in a bottle sort of

metaphor to you, dear stranger.

we’ve both done so much to

come to this point, to reach this

moment in time. decisions and

chances and challenges all bring

you to the here, to the now.

so tell me, how are you, really?

what awaits you in life?

what is the next step, my dear

stranger, to being happy?

6 notes

You have two different coloured eyes

A grey-green and an orange-yellow

And two names, one for each side

There is one I prefer to the other.

I tell you about the two parts joined by rough seams

This is the role I’ve chosen, you haven’t forced me to

I’ve gotten into costume voluntarily

For this key scene in the film of your life.

Ok, so you nearly gave me herpes

Never brought so much as the cheapest wine to dinner

I fed you and sheltered you in borrowed comfort

For only a possibility in return.

Ok, so you sulked the day the condom broke

And I went jittery-silent with the fear of disease

And it never entered your head to ask if I got the pill

Or if I wanted you to come with me to the clinic.

Ok, so your brain chemistry was geared and set

To clinical selfishness, damaged enough to survive

And designed to make sure you landed on your feet

(Like cats do, or comfortably on your back with me.)

Ok, you were pathologically cheap, entitled

Without the manners of a dog

You served yourself before me and ate the last everything

Too thick or too sharp to hear my complaints.

But for a moment, weren’t you something much nicer?

Bare-ankled, firmly planted on the earth

The force and muscle of a Centurion in your frame

Skill in the pose and balance of spear and limbs.

Thick muscle on thick bones in the shoulders

Brightly armoured and guarded

A dream of a primordial counterpart

Perfect before I touched you.

0 notes