•

we are fractured hearts separated by the entire spectrum of colours

[a-growing-thing]

Outer Wilds

If the sun should supernova

And I’m cursed again with today

Should I stare a little harder at it all?

If I searched drip-dried skies

Of blue hue

Could I find an answer

On a plane?

In inane cloud shapes?

The moon?

Or would I soon become lost

In the thrums of the frost

If I was stuck in a loop

Destined to undo some mistake

How many tries would it take?

As I pulled the threads together

Would I start to lose my tether

Would I be composed and clever

Or tread right here forever?

[a-growing-thing]

Un-human

When I leave the office

I am grey eyed and stoic

I wince my way home

And can’t feel a thing

When I get home

I try to wipe away the evidence

With a joke and colours in my voice

But everything still stings

When I go to bed

I let the covers roll over me like waves

I rip off my skin

Let the salt water burn

When I wake

I count my fingers and toes

Remember breakfast, and wind-air

and soft human care

When I cry

I am angry

And wonder if this feeling

Is one of a kind.

[a-growing-thing]

Balance Beam Blues

I’m trying to balance myself

Knowing that I will tip in and out of this

Like seesaw

Like clockwork

Like what I learned before:

I try to steady

Know that I’m not ready

And yet I still need to try

When I fall away like glass

These feelings won’t just pass

If I hold them all alone.

Do people actually do this shit?

Is there a way not to fawn forlorn

Or hide unsatisfied? To say everything

Like I mean it?

I mean, to say everything and mean it?

[a-growing-thing]

Grief

I am cautious in my grief

Afraid to commit to it in case it gets large;

There are parts of me that want to be free

To run and hide and seek

But every day this week

I’ve stumbled over myself

Tossed and turned the bed over to sleep

You told me that being bored comes first

That I can’t get out til I stop wanting to leave

But where do I grieve?

I miss everything that has ever happened to me.

[petaltexturedskies]

Vladimir Nabokov, from letter to Vera Nabokov wr. c. July 1923, featured in Letters to Véra

[a-growing-thing]

The tapestry breathes on my wall

In and out

Like a reminder-

I’m home today

My body aches with last week,

Like a reminder

I want to scream at you from my stomach

Emboss “it wasn’t okay” on your palm

As a reminder

I time travel back to 23 and 26

When this happened once before,

What a reminder

I, a bee,

will sting only if I need to

As a reminder

It would literally kill me

So I keep my venom

Like a reminder.

[whimsifae]

the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating

[louisegluck]

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals

[lunchboxpoems]

[a-growing-thing]

As I sit in this junction waiting for the lights to change

I look around and see a station wagon full of teenagers

I want to wind the window down

Gulp the fumes and tell them everything I know before the engines get loud

I want to tell them about the pot holes ahead, how to change a flat

and how to avoid an accident.

But once the light is green

I become the noise

Part of the traffic

Creator of potholes

And accidents.

[a-growing-thing]

What a mess you made

When the best you gave

Has turned their smiles

Away,

These rotten revelations split

Your world down the seam,

I can see it all transpire

The rolling waves of what’s to come

A hundred aftershocks from February’s quake

And I don’t know how to hold it all for you,

Or how to lay it down like fancy plates

So as not to shatter you…

Why does it feel

Like I am last at the party,

Trying to pack up the cans of contempt

They held for you then left behind?

And you are six years old

On the verge of tears you don’t even know exist.

[hits-differently]

[a-growing-thing]

to feel my grief was a privilege,

afforded only to my saddest moments

like when I wept, windswept in the gardens

or cursed the moon through my baby teeth,

now I fight to suffer,

cry in the ad breaks

a new sadness comes in with the rain,

now the planets align again

in that way you’d roll your eyes at,

but the symbiosis of it all:

like the ants in the acacia,

the ants kill the predators

so they can keep the tree strong:

is it selfish or kind

does it even matter?

[seaymph]

“What lovely secret dreams I made.”

—

 Odysseus Elytis, from “The Sovereign Sun,” The Sovereign Sun: Selected Poems

(via journalofanobody)

[lunamonchtuna]

— Mikko Harvey, from For M

[a-growing-thing]

if they could see

the weapons i whittled that later lay in my chest

the air I gave that collapsed my left lung

and the fire i started with frost bitten fingers

would they see now

when I fortify the fence

and take my share of the rainwater

and take my turn

and take—

that it’s because I gave for too long

[herbaklava]

Dream Home Series: Green Edition ✨