just walking myself home

yl (they/them) 20s | somewhere to put my poetry for a lil while

[aielylois]

introduction (brief)

the facts are these:

yl (they/them) • about as old as Coldplay's 'Safety' EP • all poetry and writing I post/reblog here was written by me, unless I explicitly state otherwise (please do not repost my work anywhere)

nightanddayyleia -> anagolayy -> aielylois

see my 'about' page for a longer (slightly more rambly) intro

[aielylois]

after Willing and Able by Noah Kahan

oh darling - here we are again sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the silence to break it's a game we play, you and I who can sit with this weight in our chests for the longest without breaking down we've been at a stalemate for years can't do small talk without turning it into an argument so we say nothing let the silence stretch out the distance between us eyes on no man's land

when we were younger, I always threw the punch snapped faster struck first but just like back then you always hit harder the apology fires out of your mouth short soft explosive I am left speechless in it's wake you leave it hanging in the air the noose leaving rings around your eyes haunted by your regret-

oh darling - I'm sorry we are not promised much in this world but I should have given you my word at the start before I left you I should have said I'd come back to you always that I've been yours since we were young that no matter how we fight you will never hurt me as much as I know I hurt you when I left I can never be the normal you crave but if you're willing I'm able to stay by your side for as long as you'll have me-

oh darling - our lives are a mess I have so many years to live that I forget that you do too that despite the way the years cling to you this part of life is still new and even after all these years away you're still going through them with me do you think it would be easier if you held my hand like you did when we were young? I've forgotten what it feels like to fly but your hand in mine helps me remember what it's like to take a leap of faith so, darling if you're willing I'm able to be brave with you

- ylm

the conclusion to this saga

Prompts: small talk - #promptsbyjasmine on ig // hold my hand - braving.the.static on ig

[aielylois]

I'm not scared of mirrors anymore - a tanka series

you called me angel once–I am anything but I have weaponised my anger until it bursts like a dam–through me, the flood

you were the tyrant of my childhood memories constantly testing the water as if it was the old swimming pool out back

instead of being a tidal wave of my rage but you had no fear wading in, sword-drawn, taunting as you always seem to do

you were always brave in a way I wished to be looking for danger or making it yourself I could never look away

I called you a fool, an idiot, hot-headed jerk, and so much worse yet through it all you gave me nothing but your deepest trust

how did you know we were a mirror reflecting our worst parts? how did you know I would watch over you in spite of this reflection?

how could you trust me to hold you at your lowest? when your world broke down and you broke down with it–how did you know I'd bear witness?

because I did, love– I was with you through the flood of your tears and rage and I saw you: crystal clear as my own damn reflection

and I knew it then that you were a part of me that I could never get rid of no matter what I did–you stayed by my side

until you left me of your own accord–you left and I trusted you to come home, find me again as if it were that easy

but what is a year to one who has lived thousands? life got in the way I learned to forget, kill time, turn away from the mirror

and into strangers every second of us fades I grow out of you but the future is haunting me–I cannot forget you

even if you leave (especially if you do) who else stood by me who else trusted me to lead who else weathered my anger?

I wanted normal I wanted ordinary but you are not tame you never were–you are still the boy I pushed in the pool

a lifetime ago I just think it's funny how we keep coming back circling and orbiting it's not love–it's gravity

I already know the answer and so do you it was in your eyes angel-bright and sparkling laughing at our inside joke

that despite it all we still cannot trust ourselves to admit the truth even when it's reflected back to us in our eyes

so you took the leap decided to face my fear trusted me to see the truth staring back at me even while I looked away

you grew up for me brave looks diff'rent on you now I show you my rage you let it wash over you and you meet me as I am

on the other side of the flood, a broken damn defences lowered until all that is left is you, reflecting back at me

- ylm

in conversation with this shadorma piece I wrote

Prompts: biblical flood + draw your sword - @nosebleedclub // heart like a mirror + every second of us + I grow out of you - angelealowes on ig // I just think it's funny how - braving.the.static on ig // bravery looks different now - #sspoetryprompts on ig

[aielylois]

after Growing Sideways by Noah Kahan

in conversation with this piece I wrote a few days ago

Prompts: the way I look at you is evidence - lylaswords #promptsbylyla on ig // the rules of the game + this is not a confession + small talk - promptsbyjasmine #promptsbyjasmine // ready, aim, + a saviour complex with imposter syndrome + going over the speed limit + you shouldn’t spend the night - #sspoetryprompts on ig // love: cost benefit analysis + growing pains - wingedwords02 #promptsbykia on ig // gall - @nosebleedclub // make a list of 3 things you tend to do a lot in your poetry. then, write a poem that does none of those things - @cgcpoems

[pic id in image description and under the cut]

oh darling, the way I look at you is evidence of a crime you didn’t know you committed and I couldn’t defend against. there are meant to be rules to this game but you were never one for following so we draw–ready, aim, caught in crossfires and crosshairs and cost benefit analyses that tell me this was never going to be a gentle love–this is steel clashing, car crashing, high risk high reward we reap what we sow and suffer the growing pains and the gall and I guess what I’m saying is that we are not in love–

we are a saviour complex with imposter syndrome and someone should probably stop me because this is not a confession of anything you don’t already know but–I make small talk now. I go to therapy.

I drive down long roads and leave my foot on the brake and keep myself from going over the speed limit and get home safe and save myself because they left the porchlight on for me and they are waiting but you are not–

not anymore. so no, you shouldn’t stay the night and you don’t get to care if I grow sideways and you are not allowed to hold me like you used to–

I don’t need the safety of your arms to grow up anymore

- ylm @ aielylois

[aielylois]

after Drag Path by twenty one pilots

I have walked this Earth for so long the years melt together time has been dragged out of me I dig my heels in

desperate to leave evidence I was here all along ordinary time be damned I dig my heels in

I left a light in your backyard a hint of a trace and you looked up - can you find me digging my heels in?

an angel avenging, glaring, demanding I look down at what I have left behind I dig my heels in

forgetting the path I have made you call my name and I follow through the dogged years digging my heels in

time won't stop refuses to slow I trace back my lost years scared of being forgotten I dig my heels in

you found me clinging to my past white-knuckled evidence to remind myself of who I was before you

you always loved a mystery and I was enigma- incarnate – dragging the corpse of my history

you don't ask and I will not tell so we dance blustering around a subject no one wants to uncover

but you found me – uncaring, wild you saved me I saved you we were inevitable you dug your heels in

can't you see the path we are on? evidence left behind of a history we share digging its heels in

I found you lost at the altar angel-bright looking up I was never your saviour but you still find me

digging my heels in – I watch you you see me the years melt and I follow the path home leading back to you

you left a light in your backyard a drag path evidence we find each other again – dogged years be damned

- ylm

Prompt: ordinary time - @nosebleedclub // white knuckles - lylaswords (#promptsbylyla) on ig

inspired by (but not written about) this reel by yamamai_2 on ig about an immortal being visiting a museum and recognising their loved ones in each exhibit

[aielylois]

oh darling! how do I tell you that I am not made for ordinary time I have watched the years fall down my window chasing the hours I have left with you our love is an epic we have yet to live reaching across history sweeping through cities it demands a tapestry to be drawn upon I grasp at the red string knowing you are at the end of it

oh darling! how do I remind you that we were just as vicious and valiant as they thought ruthless, cunning, wicked - fearless, daring, brave we were free, once before time rattled the chains you cannot have me tame, my love and I cannot have you hiding so I run away wild hoping you will follow knowing you will not

oh darling! how do I convince you I would do it all again I am tired of reaching and not finding you next to me our love has outgrown this small town and I cannot survive another goodbye so I wait on your doorstep like when we were young waiting for you to come out and face the world with me

- ylm

Prompt: ordinary time - @nosebleedclub

Poem soundtrack: Oh Darling! as covered by Florence + the Machine // Halloween, Still, Come Over - by Noah Kahan

[aielylois]

after You're Gonna Go Far by Noah Kahan

there is no one waiting for me no one but the home I grew up in and the child I once was that's the tragedy, you see

so I write of a home that misses me when no one else did watch the tragedy unfold of my parents missing someone who no longer exists

no one in this town wants me back so I write of a place that does I write of my parents who wait for their child to return to what they once were

I write about a place that might want me back and pretend it is enough to soothe the longing I have to be the child I once was in a history that doesn't exist

I hold the longing in me next to the child I once was and the history I've rewritten as they wait for me to come home

- we ain't angry at you love, you're the greatest thing we've lost | a pantoum | ylm

[aielylois]

at the doctor's appointment

my GP asks me

"anything in particular you want me to look at?"

and I say

Doc, I don’t feel real / I can't figure out why the words coming out of my mouth / don't sound like me / don't know why my mind feels the cold like an afterthought / Doc, I think I’m being haunted / why else do I feel like I’m watching my body from the outside / instead of living in it? / it feels like I'm doing everything from behind glass except / it's not separating me from the world / it's splitting my body from my brain / see I know about the mind-body problem / and Doc, I just want the solution / how do I come back to a body  / that doesn't want to be haunted / by the weight of all this living? / how do I come back to a body / that doesn't want me? / Doc, I'm scared / and I just want to go home

nothing

-ylm

[aielylois]

after Unknown / Nth by Hozier

-ylm

[aielylois]

in another life, I studied linguistics in this one, alas, I must settle for being a poet

[aielylois]

I've come to blows with love recently. and I realised that it's not love's fault. I was simply looking for the wrong answer. see, I've been blessed enough to be surrounded by love my whole life. my family, my friends, all people who I love and who love me. I know what being loved feels like. it's being seen and understood and accepted, whole and with heart. I know what loving feels like. warmth radiating from the core of my very being, soft smiles and gales of laughter.

I've been fighting with love recently. and I realised I shouldn't blame love. I was simply asking the wrong question. see, I got stuck on the word 'love'. the word that keeps being thrown around, bandied about, muddled up. the ancient Greeks had it right when they gave it different names. because the truth is, I kept asking 'what would it be like to be loved?' but what I really meant was 'what is it like to be wanted?'.

I've been bruised by love lately. and I realised it's not love that hurt me. I was simply seeking the truth. what is it like being the object of someone's affection? what is it like to be the first choice? I wondered what you'd look like in love and realised too late that I was asking the wrong question. what I meant was 'what is it like to be wanted by you?'

-ylm

[aielylois]

I mythologise my lover like Pygmalion sculpting Galatea like if I don't do it, someone else will and I don't know if my trembling hands can take it don't know if my poet's heart has the nerve to imagine a world where I am not holding you

[nosebleedclub]

Do you really like them?

[aielylois]

it took me so long to admit it to myself / that by the time I said it out loud / I was well versed / a song I knew the words to / a poem they could never read / but they were right / saying it out loud makes it real

saying it out loud sends a commitment to the universe / that I have laid down my sword and shield / put away my armour / unlocked my chest // I cannot curse fate for stepping onto my threshold / and dropping fresh devastations at my feet / I opened the door / after all

and yet

every time I walk away / every time I leave their sight / every time I am alone / it is the one question that floats to the surface / I have chased it all the way down to the depths / until I couldn't remember what the sun felt like / until I forgot what it was like to breath / until I realised all too late the weight of the truth

(it is called a 'crush' for a reason after all)

[sourdough-seal]

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

[orbitalmirror]

"how did you get into writing" girl i've been tormented by the visions since i was eight years old

[aielylois]

"how did you get into writing" girl I was haunted by stories and the only way to exorcise them was to write them down

[aielylois]

my life is a fucking abbatoir / my name, my pronouns, my identity - all lambs to slaughter / my name, once so lovingly crafted / now hacked up / shucked / butchered beyond recognition / my pronouns, a testament to my evolution / now chopped up / discarded / entrails cast aside to be mopped up / I am tired of drip feeding the world my identity / hoisted by my own petard of wanting to make myself known / but choking on my fragile tongue / I have been drained / skinned of a name / a label / a face / I want to pull out these tenterhooks / I want to feel the swell of blood rushing to my head / I want to hold the knife / let me tell you who I am with my whole damn chest / bloody beating heart and all

-ylm

[aielylois]

after Wait For Me (Reprise)

"The meanest dog you'll ever meet / it ain't the hound dog in the street.."

there's something in the way Hermes holds Orpheus close, looks him dead in the eye, tries to tell him, pleading with the boy to listen to his words but already seeing the doubt cloud his vision

"He bears his teeth and tears some skin / But brother that's the worst of him"

it's watching Hermes trying desperately to give Orpheus a final warning - not that it's a trap or a trick but that it's worse - it's a test. because if it was a trap, the blame is easier to point elsewhere - it's the person who laid it, the person who set it.

"Now the dog you really gotta dread / Is the one that howls inside your head"

but if it's a test... there is the person who set it and the person who undertakes it. there is a sense of responsibility that someone has to bear.

"It's him who's howling drives men mad / And a mind to its undoing"

and Hermes knows it's too late. he knows this old song and why he sings it anyways. but that doesn't stop him from trying to help the boy. doesn't stop him hoping against hope that the story changes, this time. doesn't stop him from letting Orpheus and Eurydice go, knowing how the song ends. knowing that he will sing it again, and again...

[aielylois]

I am haunted by a melody and I wonder how I went so long without it whispering on the breeze caressing my skin half ghost light half star dust it settles in my eyes and I am once again with you listening to nightingales tell their tales under a half moon glistening quicksilver amidst pinprick stars in paradise and even though it was so long ago I will always have the memory of love's refrain to bring me sweet dreams

after 'Stardust' - Hoagy Carmichael -ylm

Prompt: half-moon/half-ghost - #elocintingprompts on ig