notes.
jxzy
these words were meant to fit
on a screen
on a phone
in the palm of your hand.may they be with you
til morning comes.
two trees make a forest
and three people make a crowd,
but missing you is more complex.
it is my heart, sitting beneath
the old magnolia tree and
wondering whether my tired eyes
will see your face again.
𖡼⚘summer.watch as dandelion fairies
dance in the summer breeze,
violently plucked from their home
by your tender wishes.
*
・ﾟ
*
:･ﾟ
✧
°
✧˖
･。
･
:
*
:･
*
･。
･
.*
.
*
˖
‧ ˚ .𖡼
𓍢ִ໋
you float away, helium balloon
tangling with trees as
you clear the canopyyou brush with condensation
as you drift past clouds
burstagainst the stratosphere and
falling a thousand leagues
to the sun-warmed sea,icarus with a softer ending.
。
･。
‧
·˚
˚‧
。your bed is saltwater
and the eerie blue of starlight,
filtered through the great cathedral
of crashing waves,
casts its raging
lament on your eyelashes.down here, it is still.
your eyes sting from salt
as you watch the wreckage sink
to the welcoming cold embrace
of the ravenous sands,
the outpouring of gold
from the belly of the beast.you let your eyes close
and drift off
to distant shores,
where the gulls will pick your bones clean.
.
goddess.perfectly manicured
rows of three
manufactured truths
you will only see
one of the faces of Janus
because the other is too
hideous for consumption
feed
into the lies
that you missed
your chance
at becoming Aphrodite
because you could never
be as beautiful
but you could be as
terrible
the doctor.you worry yourself sick,
taken with consumption,
drinking the offerings of blood poured out
by your patience
as night bleeds with no regard for day.your body distends as your lungs collapse.
you find it hard to breathe beneath the mask
in a humorous twist of fate
and you wonder if letting
go would let you rest at last.you cling on nonetheless.it is leeches sucking lifeblood
from your vulnerable body soul mind,
parasitic stillborn child.you thought yourself a doctor.
plague spreads to the proud.
puppy love.they say they want eyes
only for them
that wouldn’t dare look away for
a second
for fear of the canines
that would recklessly sink into the flesh
of any that draw near,
even to destroy them both.what they want is the obedient beast
that holds their purses,
chained on the leash they call
love.and they are its bitch,
a title rightly earned.
.
a lifetime of want
leaves you wondering
if greed and lust
are just the names we’ve given to
insatiable human appetite,
devouring everything
in its destructive path to the next meal.you gorge yourself
on the innocence
of those who let the wolf in
as the roof falls in on the mutton
and the glutton.
i am afraid of your appetite.
bottomless stomach
desperate for
more,
always more.but maybe i, too, am guilty
of feeding
your monstrous hunger.i cut pieces of myself
to feed your devouring mouth
until, at long last,
there is nothing left of me.
you grow moss
as you wait for sunrise,
pulled into the pond
by the monsters that wish
nothing more than to consume
your still-red heart,
cracking your stone shell open
like an egg.breakfast sits heavy in your stomach.
your ghost wanders out
into the winter storm
and settles in the cold
as intricate snowflakes float through you.you lie there for hours,
wishing to be an angel. . *
˖ ˚ ｡ ˚⋆
⋆˚
˖° . .*
.。
* ･ : *
.･ ･
* : ･ ‧
. 。
* ‧ ˚ ⋅* ‧ .
˖ ˚
‧ ˖
⋆ ‧ *: ･ﾟ˖ ⋆
･ﾟ˖
. * ˖ ‧ ˚
⋆ ⋆ *
* ˖ .
。
.
.
at times you feel
as if
your emotions are too big for your body.it was created to hold
soft
small
things.motes of dust moving through sunlight,
velveteen shivers,
the first leaf of spring.a warm hand,
sounds from the kitchen,
a memory.there is no place for that clawed creature in this haven.
i try to gather everything in my hands,
memory and feeling,
all too much and not enough.
it slips like water through my fingers
and i lose it to the multitudes.i am like the ocean, the ebb and the flow
⣿⡿⠋⠉⠠⠞⠛⠋⠉⢁⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⠉⢀⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣭⣤⡶⢚⣁⣤⣤
static.there are days where your head is
white noise, static
filling the spaces of your cranium.on these days you wonder
if your body belongs to your mind at all?
like someone tripped over
the cord that tethered
your smile to your happiness.
mother calls for you to fix the tv.
you shake yourself and go to help,
leaving your thoughts behind. ⣀
⣤⣤
⣤⣤⣤⠄⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⡤⠄⢀⣠⣤
⣀⣤⡶⢿⣻⣿⣿⡿⠋⢁⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⢀
⣰⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⢀⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣭⣤⡶⢚⣁⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿
⠿⠛⠉⢀⣠⡴⠞⠁⣀⣤ ⣶⣿⣿⣿⠿⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿
⣿⣿
⣀⣴⣾⡿⣋⣤⣶⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⢉⠠⠞⠛⣩⣵⣿⣿⣿⠿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋
⣀⣤⣶⠿⠟⠛
⠉⢁⡴⠾⠟⠛⠉⠁ ⠛⠛
⠋
summer is the smell
of sun-baked asphalt
drifting through the open window with
the uncomfortably hot breeze.two plants slowly wither
on the window sill.
they were supposed to be unkillable, but
they are beyond saving now.at half past two
we eat lunch,
time blurred by the recycled days
kept only by the sun and moon
and frozen meetings
and friends making plans for monday.summer has been four months long.
tomorrow will be summer too.
the sky is your friend,
scent of jasmine in the air.you think time sleeps in memory,
a softer coda to an age-old song.there is a thunderstorm at two o’clock.
you almost stay awake to listen
and think, instead, of cotton candy,
sticky on the hottest summer day,
and the smell of sun-warmed pavement,
grass crushed under bare feet,
sunset by the water, and
watching the whole of creation
fade into the dazzling horizon.you think of freedom and try,
for a moment,
to capture it.
the sun hangs low in the sky.
the lowest boughs of heaven offer
fruit, ripe for the picking.it is softly glowing sweet,
close enough to touch,
real enough to eat.the evening haze over the riverbank
and september’s apple harvest,
the yellow-pink taste of summer’s end.
a train passes by in the early morning,
lights in the fog.the air is cool and
stings a bit when you breathe.in twenty minutes
the first ship will leave
harbour,
off to warmer waters.
the pit in your stomach
grows and blossoms,
honeysuckle and staccato words spilling from your mouth,
sotto voce.
moths flock to the cavern of your
ribcage, red paper lantern,
crumbling to feathery dust
seconds to minutes
to days
to eternity
and your heart struggling for room
to beat her steady rhythm.
you tried to write a poem once, too.
one about butterflies and
storm clouds.it was gone
as quickly as it came,
wisps of fog in morning sun.