the open closet poems

Symbols are clusters of emotion

[aetherwritesthings]

Ingenious

Matter in solitary confinement or lone rest stays that way.

Hidden from prying eyes of the worried and preoccupied.

Not rude nor aggressive. The capacity to understand has failed. Eyes searching for someone else, your words will not reach the wound. Your eternal written care will not scratch the surface.

I have seen your eyes are old. But not as aged. I've felt the rain on my lower lip tremble and fall.

I do not possess the light you want me to produce. As the rain drops, such is the fate of light.

Licht en vrijheit.

Gebroken vleugels.

Everything sounds so far away when you are finally sane.

They leave, again in time.

Sweet light gazing

14 March, 2018

- Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Return of darkness

Urged me to spill

There is no need to say what's on my mind

It's a matter of sentiment

Enough are my eyes

They show what they must.

The mouth needs not speak.

The mouth only disgruntles the true meaning of feelings.

It tears them appart and reassembles them as something completely meaningless.

Words are not to show the way

They always serve to obscure it.

The need to sleep overcomes the sadness, painfully slow.

Stars are bound together by force.

Not having the necessary power or gravity to pull a star, means you're either too far away, or not enough.

And that is why this planet will remain alone.

Trying to care for the well being of stars will rob the planet of its power.

It will limit its range and its gravitational influence.

Redness is gone.

The longing for the purple shade is unbearable.

Remains are blue and pale, forming mists of doubt. They blind and they confuse.

It hurts, it hurts

Nobody follows the orbit, the rest not visible

Left in non ending darkness onwards goes, the one that the moons have forsaken.

It hurts more now

Space dematerializes.

And home is far.

14 March, 2018, 02:05

- Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Yak Yak

In what measure do i not exist, am i not physically there? Does my kind choose not to see me, eyeing through me like a veil of shadowy fog.

My memories wear thin when i’m still just a bud, haven’t opened up, haven’t finished what was started. And half of it, i have already forgotten, frail human body, frail brain, frail relationships, the irony of it all.

Superficial problems, why would anyone care about loneliness, coldness of heart, ice enveloped thoughts, pain, oh pain.

Sent through the portal here, to forget, still remembering the starting beacon, forgetting the road back. A failure of a creation, or just unique?

Weird? What does weird mean to you?

Simple? Normal? What about now?

Easy to understand topics, easy to read formulas. Are you satisfied with that? Why would a weird formula disgust you, drive you away. When the simply evil one should, yet you accept it because you understand it. Why is weird, weird to you?

The test sheet is given out at the start, but nobody will grade you on it, only yourself.

Do you think at all?

About what?

She wants to learn about everything, even if it will be hard on her, when she forgets, she sometimes has glimpses of past events and words, and she slowly remembers bits and parts and tries to shape the nothingness around them.

So tell us, tell us your story.

“Yaks are my definition of love.”

26th December 2016

Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Personalities breakdown pt1

Hi. -Hey. So, we meet again. -It seems like it. What have you been up to? -Me? Me. -Well, I think. I fell quite hard this time. -Notoriously. Splendidly with a crash sound effect. -I feel my cheeks warm up. The unexpected need to cover them and your eyes? -Weird high pitched sounds i'm trying to suppress. Rolling around, face hidden in palms? -Thinking of peachy colours and sweet smells. What is this? -What indeed. It's new. -As you. As me? -As me. What do i do? -That's easy. Go with it? -Go for it. Swim? -Fly. What about the fish? -If it flies, watch. What if it swims? -What if it fries? Eat it? -No, fool, it's toxic. Fishes are toxic to me? -They are to cats. Cats? -You.

10 October 2016 ~ Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Black Holes

How do i explain

How do i claim back lost memories

Things i no longer recall

I think i’ve felt this way once before

The same sensations, i was seeing through a same coloured frame

Deep underwater, uneven breathing

You’d caught me by the hand

And ran

I don’t remember any time passed with you

I wonder why

I’m blacking out more often lately

Has it really been that long?

12 September 2016

Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Drunken sober

Still in a spinning

How do feel ?

White seeing purple peaches

Excuse worthwhile signature word

Black&Gold whirl pull

Save sober could never be this drunk Floppy destruction

6 September 2016 ~Aether.

[aetherwritesthings]

Metallic earth and dancing fire

Teal-grey kisses, sounds of incoherent love.  You gave and you took, then you said you had enough.  You never asked.  And i thought that it was over from the start.

I ‘ve since then focused on a dancing firefly for a while now, why would your cold metallic hand obscure beauty from my eyes.  I don’t want to return, yet your magnetic grip won’t let me gallop forward. 

Let me go to the firefly, let me learn how to dance on fire, let me love someone alive.

You are a pretty melancholy and she’s a living flame.  I am just an observer.  I long to see and hear and feel. Consciously, subconsciously, unconsciously.  One day i dream of being able to open my eyes in complete darkness and breathe it in, touch the non-existent, listen to the silence.

23 August 2016

Aether 

[aetherwritesthings]

Dreams, questions and something quite red

I must say, i was a bit taken aback.  I never thought i’d dream of you so quickly. I don’t like guessing about what others are thinking but i could bet i wasn’t in any of the thoughts you had after the meteor hit.

I came to visit you, you were working at a pastry shop,  I had something i’d been meaning to tell you, you knew, you told me to keep it for later and asked me if i even knew what kind of work you did.  I was just a tad confused about what you meant by that.  It felt like you were asking me if i even knew you at all - i didn’t and that’s why i was there.  You toured me around the shop, getting overexcited over a certain piece of chocolate cake, which ended with it falling flat in your left hand, just as it was a few millimeters from the floor.  You went to the counter, chose a knife and sliced the piece offering me half of it.  Still slightly confused i took the piece and you motioned us towards a small table next to the large window.  We sat down and i looked outside for some time while you started munching your piece of cake.  I vaguely realized it but while i was thinking about what you said i absentmindedly whispered “ You, you are an artist, you leave your marks on paper and express your spirit on breathing canvases. But most of all, you are a dancer, you let music carry your soul and earthly body.” I turned to you, still not realizing I was thinking out loud and said “ I love looking at people dance when they think they are alone “.  You didn’t look up from your plate but you smiled, like you knew something i didn’t yet.

How can you not exist when someone that’s not yourself always looks at you? I’m trying to point out exactly what you are in terms of symbolism since i rarely get you in dreams. Black and red cobra that slithers away in the dead of the night quietly but doesn’t do any harm.

16 August 2016 Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Inward monologues and the newly brewed fire

It’s peaceful in liquid form.  The quiet, the silence, the blue, the floating

Static 

         Electric

                      Currents.

Adaptability in alien waters             120% Metamorphosis chance                 35-67% Evolution possibility                       83-149%

Flow as the lonely stream does.

Drowning? Is it bad? Expression? Of what?

The sea does not liberate as it used to. A red fire grew in me and it drives me further away from my natural instincts. Salty wet confinements, take me deeper                                                                 deeper                                                                            deeper                                                                                          Drown upwards 

7 August 2016 Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

The adoption

They probably haven't missed me yet. Though i don't think about them, i kept forgetting the division of the sun's solemn look at midday.

In the end the strays had adopted me, but i was still without family they hugged me, but i was still without warmth they told me to fly, but my wings had been cut long ago they called me, but it was a false name they used

truthfully exposed to all the elements, i was still in flesh. Closed wounds, rough exterior, forehead battlegrounds. Lots to show how it was, none visible to the naked eye.

They still wander around empty streets on nights with no moon, calling false names.  The one who listens is the truly lost one. To be responding to pats on the crown of my conscience would seem abnormal under several circumstances, but the cat's purr never ceased to counter the silence that fell after them.  The strays don't seem to have noticed my existing sympathy for them.

Trying vaguely to approach destined paths, never giving second chances, hardly sparing any glances. But they are still so far away, and i have always been the only stray.

19 March 2016 Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Ethereal Rivarly

MGHT just be the curious nature inside of me. MIGHT EVen be the fact that your presence feels oddly like my own incoherent apprehension of HOME. MAY ALSO be my overworked malfunctioning neurons.

I DISLIKE the word “but”, yet it keeps trying to leap into the wet mess of poorly thought out words and out my usually heavily guarded lips.

TRIED TO RECALL conversations she had with others before, but always end up at crossroads leading to long forgotten muddy swamps of sealed away sentiments.

IT’D be unfair to let you have all the fun. Some things you have to uncover yourself. You should be able to tell, i can’t offer life.

I was suuposed to have 1, no 2, no..  3 names, Lux, Aurum, Aemulus. They robbed me of the last one, right out the womb. Lost my antagonist long ago.

MAYBE it was only that which saved him of yet another eminent confusion.

HAVING NO FAMILY name rarely bothered her since a “family” was in a sense, as well, missing.

HOME . FAMILY . FRIENDS UNKNOWN TERRACES to walk upon.  There was a peculiar, slightly unnatural tendency to collide with wooden reconstructions of wishful realities.

HER FAVOURITE WORD thus far was “SORRY”.  I struggle to cure her, to eradicate this bad habit of hers.  She won’t listen.  She weeps and cries at nights with no moon and I, unable to move, watch her reflection on the surface of the dark, vertical lake in front of her.

Study me if you’d like, as I study you. Slowly, Carefully, Silently.

OBSERVATIONS ARE BEING MADE WITH EACH NEW MOVEMENT. SCRUTINY MADE US WHAT WE ARE.

I want to know your real name. I want you to realise it and yell it out loud on the hilltop. I want to meet my destined rival. Even if it’s only once, even if it is to kill me.

2 January 2016

Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Lock picker

i dreamt of it again, that enormous wooden gate in the skies enveloped inside clear, glass walls and locked away 3 locks was all that took to secure it. To make sure it would never open wide again, for anyone. 2 guards and 1 key holder. It was windy when i returned. The wood creaking and the portal moving slightly, despite its huge size. There was someone overhead. At the highest part of the door, smirking, coyly at first, he'd started picking on the locks i once 'd sealed away. I made it in time, i stopped him from breaking in.  But i was defeated. I, this kingdom's most skilful lock sealer, was done in by a mere lock picker. I observed him when he undid the first lock with as much as a flick of his finger. And they'd let him.  My trusted guards, sat in their unmoving, hazel thrones, watched him placing bets.

I am not yet sure what his aim was, but i sealed my locks once more. He's coming back and i'll be waiting.

Aether 23 December 2015

[aetherwritesthings]

They’ve been here for a while

I saw her again yesterday, she'd resurfaced once more. Situated at the only dry place i could find, under the big tree, i observed movements and lives. Drawing in church yards, i never thought i'd ever find it peaceful again. 

At first i saw the hat, then legs and hair.  It was him at that moment. Then back again, i tried to call out to her but she didn't become aware of my existence.  He might have known i was there, at some point i thought he’d spotted me while on the move. They left from my delusional optical vicinity and i let myself draw for a while, adore the dark, cold atmosphere.  Chilling, was it not? Deciding it was time to stretch a bit, i picked up my parts. Ink, water and damp paper.  Went around town, places that people wouldn't show up by accident. Kept on etching walls on my pages. 'It's a wall night, it'll be a bread morning', they said to me.

Retreating from the freezing asphalt, it came to my attention, i shouldn't have lingered that much on that particular evening.  Having no other choice at hand, i began galloping back to where i started.  Feeling i should use a street i hadn’t in a while, i turned and my eye caught a glimpse of the hat again. Squinting eyes and a smile, i was relieved. Looking the other way, i smiled. She looked happy, so i passed by observing the buildings that were closer. He must have been there too, lurking behind her smile, but it doesn't matter, does it? Those two, they have managed to get this far like that.

The worrying feeling in my gut lifted and i could finally change my direction. 'Bread's not so expensive', i heard conscience say. The subconscious was weirdly joining in, in the midnight after hours and was taking my side this time.  Maybe that was expected since i'd released her several nights ago.  She hasn't spoken ill of me yet. I don't think she ever will.  She feels the same as usual, but a bit closer than before. I don't think we've become one just yet. The subconscious feels more warm than she ever did.  She'll take her time, she's been captive for quite a long while.

I should stop going out late, it gets colder and colder each time. And my hands are still bruised.

11 December 2015 Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

the candle, the sun and the strays

Still moving so slow, so terrifyingly slow can't grasp the time passing. A bit torturing, a bit nostalgic. Warm hands trying to unmask the already naked soul I have read about this once before. That actual moment when it's just the candle flame dancing away, a solemn face, i didn't know it would turn on me. A stray asking for my age, probably the first loose screw.

Frustration? Anger? What was that, i didn't really understand but It hurts.  The bruises, the ones in my eyes, they hurt. Did i hurt someone again?  I don't feel it. I have to divide them, they are conflicting and confusing. She devoured me whole, that night, she did. Her gaze, the gentle caring look. He was just hiding in the shadows behind her iris and watched.   After the sunrise, he made his move.   He left.   And took her with him. Was her the one who drove him away, was it she? was it him? or was it just he? A stray looked and laughed, with that all-knowing, all-hearing face.   The strays were usually quiet and no ominous or ill intent will come about when you first meet them.  They converse normally and the moment you think you're safe they make the face. A smirk so evil and piercing eyes that have your neck trapped inside a monstrous grip of information that you have yet to come across.  Why does the stray know? How do you get out of their hold? How do i escape?

The candle was too much.

the one that might hold all the screws that you need is not me, but i could try

8 December 2015 Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

Ruptured explosions

Haven't seen her for a week she must've been away again Today i called her, and said "Look outside, it's not raining" She answered in a manner so quiet, it could hardly be called a whisper " Is it not? " she let go of the phone i could only hear her breathe steadily unchanged, yet so unreachable, even now.

She watched the old factory right in front of her bedroom window. She kept looking at me with eyes so filled with emptiness, it was impossible for me not to stumble further down

An explanation i never got, tubular bells and spotted socks "Numbness is sort of like a balance, wouldn't you say so? Grey is everything mashed up together and edged so it's not sharp any more, don't you agree?"

Ruptured souls follow chaos and chaos is bestowed on them. 'Go back', another voice, a bit farther out, barely audible. 'Go back, to the beginning, before the storm'

She, now even farther away from before sounded more sarcastic than helpless. "There is no past to this.  It has always been hectic in here, me and the others.  All we ever tried to do is leave."

'Go back'

29 November 2015 ~ Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

The Gift - Letter to an old friend

Sorry, if you got me a bit wrong.

It's just that i had that feeling, since the first time i saw you, that you were someone i knew from a long long time ago and that your presence feels way too familiar for it to be solely a coincidence. You could say it might be some sort of weird nerves colliding together in my brain, but just to be clear, i really fancy you as a person so far.

Irresistibly interesting & weirdly strange.  I could be observing your interactions with others for hours and still not learn anything new about you, but a lot about the others.

You, my friend, have the so-called gift.   The gift of being painfully visible and mysteriously invisible, at the same time.

15 November 2015 ~ Aether

[aetherwritesthings]

And they leave, they always leave.  They were never there.

just smile, say it's alright that you miss her, tell her transparent is not a color it's a feeling, it seems like a light veil surrounding you but in reality it's heavy, so heavy and rough, that you must choose numbness instead of pain

it's that time of the year again, it's the time of the big show. The one where everyone else leaves and the author stays alone in the middle of the stage,trying to please the audience by playing every role he'd ever written.

I know how the scene will conclude. Maybe each person is made out of billions or trillions years old stardust, but in the end the author is always on his own.

6 September 2015

~ Aether