an insidious condition
Only if you change
to suit my demands
Only if you're smart enough
to be the best of the best
Only if you live your life
to the plan I've laid out
Only if you can fulfill my dreams
Then maybe you'll have my love
You would leave me be
I could be free
I could learn it all
I wasn't pressed to conform into your mold
I was worthy of my own dreams
Then maybe I would love myself?
Falling Inner Love
In my impossible imagination
I fall in love with you,
Though my outer self
Says we'll never meet.
My inner self
Knows that isn't true.
For we are love.
Your words are slippery
Like butter, smooth,
eloquent and dazzling.
Like a ballet dancer doing salsa
Dipping and engorging on feasts.
I could scoff them till the icy air
puts frost upon my flesh.
As the water droplets glisten
under the aura of stars and electric blue.
Lightning paints me in the tedious hours
A glow running your watery waves.
I could wash myself in suds
I could float your dictionary ocean
And I do...
I cover my exposed skin in your alphabet blanket
And I feel like....
Two poets are passionately passing "ABC I lust you's "
A Call to All Writers
If you didn't know, I am a part of a book collaboration. It's a lot of fun and a lot of work. This post is a call to all writers who are interested in helping, whether that be as a writer, editor, or just a reader. We would love your help and feedback. We have 12 chapters put together but we are currently working on reviewing and editing. It's not a rewrite but it is the next step and we need a new set of eyes. We meet every Saturday at 2:00 EST over zoom but you don't have to come on if you would rather be an editor and reader but regardless of what you are helping with, you are more than welcome to come on. If you are interested, just leave a comment or PM me for more information.
A bit of background for the book: it would most likely be categorized as mystery and drama. It's about a young girl's disappearance and death and how her family deal with the loss.
Note: We each are assigned a character to write and there is one character in need of a writer and two whose writers are unresponsive. If you would like to write and then one of them decide to come back on or we have more than enough writers, we will just have multiple people writing for a character but I'm not sure how many people are going to want to write so please don't hesitate if you are interested.
april // a wild thing inside the heart (absence) (not like this)
i feel your hands
coming from my own,
even as they
touch my face (and linger there),
feel you like an
absence, like an
echo, like a
you’ve been gone and you’re gone and you’re
you are going
—the kind of empty
that pulses through your chest,
echoing through all the
and i miss you like
(growing out of people)
(things and music and loves)
(books and smiles and)
and i miss you like
(memories barely there, anymore)
(the love still strong, but like an)
(i’m not quite all here)
how have you been doing? they ask.
i’ve been thirty-seven days with zero beads, i want to say.
i’ve been hungry and i haven’t eaten in hours, i want to say.
i’ve been feeling so empty and i can’t fill myself back up, i want to say.
i can’t stop seeing accidents in front of my eyes, i want to say.
i can’t stop envisioning death, i want to say.
i can’t stop i can’t stop i can’t stop, i want to say.
just a little tired, i say.
i hope you all got some rest and recharged this weekend, my teacher says.
i grin across the room to the other students,
as if this secret we’re all in on
is a good one to keep—as if it’s
something to be proud of,
to have so many sleepless nights
and early mornings.
these voices in my head
trap themselves in the crevices of
my mind—they come out to play,
preying on the weaknesses,
until i cover my ears with my
hands and close my eyes, shout
as loud as i can, “SHUT UP,
SHUT UP, SHUT UP!”
and i hold off the tears,
fold my heart back into my chest,
and say, “IT’S FINE IT’S FINE IT’S FINE I’M OKAY, YOU KNOW?
CAN’T YOU SEE I’M FINE, I’M SO
FINE, I’M DOING SO WONDERFUL!”
(i forget not to yell)
Bringing Down the House
The curtain fell, before intermission. The rusted bar smashed a dent into the stage, nearly smashed the Artful Dodger, and ended our dreams of ovations.
The Garden Sea
Night had long since fallen. A dense, gray slab hung heavy in the sky, but that did not stop the snow from glowing. Shimmering flakes floated down from above. They huddled in close, giggling as they welcomed every newcomer with open arms. It had been a long journey and they needed to recount it all for they did not know when the cycle might begin again.
All the while, a girl from a world not our own watched, huddled in the window nook of a small, gray-stoned cottage, alone. A cup of brewed elders cradled in her hands grew cold with every forgotten sip. Let it be cold, she thought, let everything be cold.
The flames in the hearth dwindled as wisps of silvery breath escaped her lips. Fresh crystals accumulated in the corners of the latticed window pains, but she could not make sense of their whispers between the warped glass. No matter, for a chill crept through the house to finish off the dying beast behind her, as sleep slithered up her spine.
Slowly she numbed. But before being enveloped, the girl in the window allowed her eyes to rest out onto the Garden Sea, now blanketed beneath a thick quilt of ice and snow. Lying dormant in the grips of the season, awaiting the call of It’s mistress. How lucky it must be, the girl pondered, to know what it is you’re meant to be. And so the hands of sleep took hold, and pulled her from the world into somewhere far beyond.
Though her journey would be short lived. For a terrible POP! rang out from the depths of the night. Ripped from sleep’s grasp, the girl jolted forward, dumping the frosted remains of her cup across her lap. As she wiped the slush away, breath heavy in her lungs, she peered out the now ice-rippled window across the snow-crested garden.
It no longer glowed, but rather radiated in the presence of a Goddess. A Goddess for whom shown abnormally bright despite her waning crescent.
It was then that, bathed in the light of the divine, the girl realized what had made the awful sound that tore her from her slumber. The Garden Sea, having heard its mistress’s call, shattered its icy cover and now bubbled furiously at the edges.
Steam rose as blankets of ice and snow melted into the fury below. The flakes that had gathered along the pool’s edge scrambled over one another to escape being devoured by the water’s wrath, thrashing against the rocky shore. The Sea had been awoken long before its time and demanded answers. However, the Mistress was in no mood to explain in the midst of her servant’s tantrum. And so the little ocean spit and spewed so high and far, icicles formed midair, threatening to impale any and all who dare near the forest clearing.
The girl, who still watched from her nook, ducked as projectiles smashed against the house. She had never witnessed a landlocked sea behave in such a manner and questioned what in all the lands the Goddess’s reason for waking it could have been, when all went still.
The water paused, a hush fell over the quivering snow. The girl peeked out the window once more, though now from the safety of the floor. The Goddess never wavered.
In an instant, the sea collapsed.
With a mighty rush and a shake of the earth, it was as if the Sea’s bottom simply fell out and swallowed itself whole. Not a soul moved, for they knew never to slight a sentient sea. They watched and waited. Because as the old saying says, what goes in, must come out. And out it did indeed.
Just as sudden as it had collapsed, the Garden Sea welled up from deep below its gaping crater and expelled its contents tree-top high in one magnificent gush. Turtles and toads who napped with the Sea were sent flying. Thankfully, the fishes had gone for the season.
Standing now, nose pressed flat against the frigid window, the girl’s mouth dropped as a dark creature, with four long limbs, came spiralling up through the air, enshrouded in the bowels of the Sea.
It landed with a remarkable THUMP! a few feet off the muddy banks in a plume of squealing snow who attempted to break its fall, causing the girl and seaweed-adorned trees to flinch upon impact. The creature no longer moved.
Now satisfied with the absence of its parasite, the Garden Sea settled and collected itself once more, pulling a thin sheet of ice up over its shoulders, content with the work it had done. However, its mistress was not as easily pleased and remained above, encircled by a curtain of clouds, gazing over the regurgitated thing.
It will surely freeze if left out all night, the girl thought, and then what is to be done? The Mother Moon had overseen its journey and delivered the creature personally. Whatever the purpose, although much to her discontent, she couldn’t let it die. So the girl turned away from her window, abandoning her empty cup, and stepped into the home where she fed the last withering flame a few logs.
As the beast regained its strength and took up battle with the smothering chill, she wrapped herself in a thick, mycelium parka lined with moss, slipped on matching boots, and snagged a pair of red-knit mittens before heading out into the bitter night.
Not wanting to be trampled, the snow parted ahead of the girl from the window as she made her way along the banks of the sleepy Garden Sea. Dazed water dwellers slowly made their way back to their host, while the surrounding trees tossed ocean weeds back down below.
The creature was shivering when the girl reached it, but not inherently conscious. And upon closer inspection, the thing so rudely expelled from the backyard pond, was nothing more than human. Not from her world, of course, judging by his unseasonable choice of dress, but human just as she.
Crystals formed along his eyelashes and embedded themselves in his dark, wiry curls. He was freezing, she had no choice but to take him in. For although they meant well, the snow had a habit of forgetting themselves and tended to cause more harm than good, despite their best efforts.
She bent down to the gangly stranger, and awkwardly hoisted him up onto her shoulder. Only for the abrupt movement to cause him to vomit sea water across her shoes and send the snow scattering. With a sigh, she stole a glance at the Mother above who did no more than look back.
So she struggled to balance the entirety of the boy’s weight against hers, thanking Goddess he was not any larger, and eventually managed to drag his limp body back along the path to her home. As she stumbled forth the snow filled in at her heels, hoping she might drop the newcomer and leave him for their enjoyment after all. She did not.
By the time the two returned to the little stone cottage the fire in the hearth danced a majestic jig to announce its victory against the lingering chill. Thanking the flames, the girl placed the stranger on the weed-woven rug at their base before shutting the remainder of the night away.
After putting the kettle on, she stripped the stranger of his crisp clothes and hung them to dry. They were threaded of a rather perverse material that seemed would serve little purpose in her world. From where had he travelled, she wondered, And why?
She layered him in knitted blankets and placed a straw-stuffed pillow under his head so he might rest comfortably. The natural pink had replaced the violet-blue in his lips and his shivers had almost ceased. Though now he began to mutter odd things in his sleep that the girl could barely make out. Something about grandmothers and bottomless puddles.
Strange, didn’t everyone know not to step into water they couldn’t see the bottom of? He must not have, considering how he got here. Although she doubted it was much of an accident, as the Moon would never have taken him so far.
The boy’s mumbling went on for some time and not knowing when he would wake, the girl brewed herself another cup of elders and took up position in her window nook to wait.
Outside the flakes began to fall again, settling along the window’s edge to get a better view, still hoping the thawed creature may by some chance return to them.
And having seen the boy’s safe-enough delivery, the Goddess turned her attention to matters elsewhere, allowing the curtain to fall and darkness to swaddle the night once more.
All the while, the Sea slept.
Words dont come
Like they should
How they should
How I wanted
What I said
How I said it
Not what I said
No one sees
No one cares
Should I write
Words need saiding
I need saiding
Get it out!
No one to listen
I write to express my incoherent feelings so as to not scream my feelings from the rooftops.
When you fall,
I will lift you up,
When you cry,
I will wipe your tears,
Whatever your need,
I will provide,
Is all I need in return.
A universal truth hidden outside reality
*warning* Victims may show one or more of the symptoms stated below or some other symptoms not stated due to this riddler's chicken memory and/or inexperience.
I am something/someone
I survive on insubstantial food of mind
The more I feed, the more I die
The less I feed, the faster I die
The earlier I go to bed, the longer I take to sleep
I lose hours having thoughts too deep
Mountains of ideas too steep
From one to the other, I leap
I should be the opposite of myself
To be the best opposite of the opposite of myself
My life's work is the song of myself
One in a thousand
A piece of me in every single mindless selves
If I am lucky I end up on a shelf, two or more
If I'm not, at first, I swim to the shore
And walk away
But I end up coming back anyway
My mind and hope never truly fray
I'm a common label for whoever has ever told a tale
A potential societal menace that never goes to jail
Who/what am I?
Answers required. Winners will be paid in self-satisfaction and recognition (nope, sorry, not dollars). Kindly repost so more people can see.