-these silent words-

// forcing words out so sanity can stay // i post original poetry regularly. anything here tagged with #words is work by me and everything else are the words i love.

[all-these-silent-words]

“bare toes padded softly into the morning; 
each step taken bathed quietly in dew 
that had tucked in the sweet green grass 
as if wishing the world to sleep longer 
through the sunrise.”

— morning calm (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“they must have caught up all the hoof beats - carefully dusted them off and discarded them away with the rest of the museum pieces by calling them authentic- and meaning useless- leaving them captive and as unneeded as the butterflies in mason jars they now live with. yet come the midnight sky my dreams can still see them disguised in lightning strikes as they dare to win races against shooting stars. and when the rolling thunder becomes their victory lap my heart cries out the same song in my chest- crashing against all restraints that keep it from riding away.”

— the rider’s call (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“rain taps at our windows asking us if we’d like to come out and dance - though i politely ignore the offer - and it’s the soft sips that i take from a lazy morning cup of coffee made only after my eventual escape from a tangled mass of wrinkled sheets - and you - that tell me that this must be my way home.”

— our home lives softly here (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“continued on into the mundane - might not be a bird but these walls might as well be my cage - though what is the freedom waiting outside anyways - so it’s here that i lay - trapped between the days”

— i don’t even know what this longing is for (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“i’ve lost the mountains that i live beneath -air too stale without pine needles- i think i might suffocate without them”

— where is the fresh air exactly (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“left the words trapped in between the lines to see which of them can fight their own way out - who says they need to escape beautifully - i’ll meet them along this page just as bloody”

— some days my pen drips red (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“only immortal as long as none of these cracks are visible but lately i’ve been feeling my bones - not like they’re broken now - just like recently they’ve been more prone to breaking - and i’m not entirely sure if i should start taking evasive maneuvers or to let everything shatter when they’re due”

— a future full of broken bones (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“standing in front of that mirror with a sword drawn like a firearm - yeah - this war should have been yours but the iron was just about as cracked up as you were and this reflection can’t be the broken one if you are. besides - it’s only a losing battle when your craving needs it that way.”

— and you crave the darkness like it’s your light. (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“bled new ink into the fissure lines in the mirror- gotta fill it with something more than 8,823 days worth of misspellings and shadows that broke the reflection in the first place.”

— 10,000 days will be coming too soon. (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“keep living out the fast track of these broken record days somewhere in between the buttons of fast forwarding and repeating- my fingers are outstretched and yet always lingering.”

— stalemate (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“this year, i found a mountain range haunting the boundaries of holding on and letting go - it’s there that i left all of my misplaced goodbyes carelessly on top of the jagged summits- turning my back only at the last second before they fell - always in endless echoes. selfishly, i made them a graveyard in the canyon wall faces so they may forever read off our memories - needing them longer for when the guilt of the silence becomes far too much to bear.”

— an overdue letter to a year of far too many goodbyes  (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“today, i’m a lethargic manic with espresso shots for veins and twitchy hands proving my withdrawals from having somewhere to run to fast. today, i’m a stagnant girl with legs of lead and a head full of nervous breakdowns because the world should have turned out to be so much different. today, i’m learning to crawl again with nostalgia egging me on- it’s sitting in the back of my mind whistling tunes that belong to too many memories of where i was supposed to be. but tomorrow is coming now, just not in the way i expected. i’ve certainly taken the long way ‘round, but i will get there eventually- i simply have to take one step after the other.”

— one more step (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“some nights it seems that the sirens are becoming the city’s theme song. -headphones and ink- this place is easily a battleground of who can drown out the other.”

— and sleep will come with the silence (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“time was always meant to forget us here - always meant to leave us blanketed in the same ashes that sparked the wildfires we were born from. and we were always doomed to become the dust and the stars. is it too much to hope that we were always meant for the same constellations - so we may share twin downfalls as continuous streaks across the night until we set off our infernos - together. time was always meant to forget us here- but i refuse to. and i want to remember you after every single time we fall.”

— what time will forget  (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“dust off the day like it was the snow left on your car at 4:30 this morning. it’s way past 5 p.m. now and you’re still struggling to put together misspelled words in a race with the evening when these last moments should have belonged to the light and learning how to sigh long enough with the sunset to hear your own heartbeat inside of this mess”

— failing to write (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

“my fingertips drained the ink from a heartache made of more magic than the world is able to handle anymore. somewhere along this story the timeline skipped a beat and spit us out in a place where our words lost all their meaning. the thing is - we’ve always belonged to the fairytales. and maybe this is me - just trying to figure out why they’ve left me behind.”

— me and my ink stained heart (s.c)

[all-these-silent-words]

keep living out the fast track of these broken record days somewhere in between the buttons of fast forwarding and repeating- my fingers are outstretched and yet always lingering.

stalemate (s.c)