poetry in images and words @amberxbear - Tumblr Blog

Barcelona 2017 (via Vimeo)

#Vimeo

oystermag

Oyster Fashion: ‘Too Young’ Shot By Byron Spencer

my first roll of film// 15 June 2015 - 29 August 2015

#amberandstardust #film #35mm #Kodak

documenting the sky

#sky #photography #pretty #clouds #amberandstardust

and everytime you cave in on yourself remember that even stars do that

"Baby,"

He mumbles as he laughs into my mouth. I think I love him, but I do not say it out loud. I test the word ‘love’ with my tongue, rolling it about. We lie on the white sheets, watching the sunlight trail in, bubbles of light reflected on our bodies. He smiles that soft gentle smile he only uses with me. Rubs his leg against mine. Last night and 3am with pizza and fire escape gazing. I try to remember everything, commit every detail to memory. I try to remember this happiness, I try to absorb the sunlight and his presence. I feel taken over, there is laughter inside me that wants to bubble out, glaze this entire room. I reach for his fingers, intertwining our hands. Three days later and I receive a letter. I am a thousand and seventy-two miles away from the boy. Sometimes, the yearning keeps me up all night. When did he send this letter? I pause ever so slightly then tear apart the letter almost eagerly. The words that swim up against my eyes are indecipherable. I cannot do this. They say. I cannot do what..? I wonder quietly but everything is spinning. I cannot do us? I remember the way he pointed at the stars, tracing the big dipper in them. The way everything was ethereal. And the way this letter was sent days before that night. How do you make someone love you even more when you know you’re going to be leaving them after? What now?

#amberandstardust #29may2014 #spilled ink #writing #words #prose

Sometimes,

it just happens. I can be singing in the shower, dancing around the kitchen, lying in bed. And suddenly, I am curled up into a ball, my hands holding my chest, my arms wrapped around myself, holding myself together. The tears keep falling, the phrases keep poisoning my mind, you were never good enough for him, they say, he didn’t love you, he lied, they scream. I am scared. There was a day when you were my superhero. My best friend had a spider in his desk’s drawer, and I went running to you, all plaits and laughter, pointing towards the spider’s direction, telling you to kill it. You looked up from your math, your face all protective and you held me and I felt okay, I really really believed you would always be there for me. Three years later and I am in your car. We don’t know what to do with ourselves, our bodies. I play with your fingers, they are rough and course and I press them against my face and your eyes won’t leave mine and I trust you so much it feels like all the trust and love is pressing against my insides, wanting to get out. I loved you. You get the fries and the burgers and I am so shy, I trail after you, beside you, chewing on my lower lip as cheeky smiles and knowing glances are thrown at us. I eat and you offer to hold my bag and I don’t let you but oh, you’re persistent and I give in and you wrap my burger for me with tissue so I won’t dirty my hands and I smile at you and I am glowing. You said you loved me but people who love you don’t leave and I am gazing at you, I don’t understand, why are you leaving? What did I do wrong? You said I was good enough. I stare at you, confused and bewildered, no, I say, don’t leave me, stay, I will. But you stare straight at me, through me, and I realize you are leaving. This time I am correct, no one ever stays.

#amberandstardust #spilled ink #writing #prose #16june2014

"But you said you loved me." "I meant it then."

She watches him, her eyes wide and swollen with tears. The first rays of dawn are creeping in. His arms are crossed, his eyes blank. “You don’t love me anymore.” She manages. He grimaces. He continues to stare at the ground.  “I’ll be going,” He says, the last bit of his sentence catches. She knows she won’t be seeing him anymore. This is it, she realizes. It’s over. The tears begin to fall but he doesn’t react. He doesn’t wipe her tears away like he used to. There is no hankerchief tossed at her, no teasing jab. Instead, he mounts his bike. She watches as the bike ramps up and disappears into the distance. She cries until she falls asleep on her doorstep. What follows next is a blur of unending days. A lot of phone calls and a lot of tears. Sheared off hair all over the ground. Eventually she begins to go to classes again. Her long hair is now uneven and jagged, there are cuts on the insides of her wrists. People avoid her. She hardly notices them. It is the twentieth day when she sees him again. His hand envelops another girl’s. They are laughing. He freezes when he sees her and his eyes go blank. He doesn’t drop the girl’s hand but he holds it stiffly now. The girl looks up, momentarily confused. She looks like her. Like the old her. Laughter lines and fair skin and wavy blown away hair. She looks away. The days become mundane. Some days her hands shake of their own accord. She keeps dropping mugs. She doesn’t drink coffee anymore. She only wears sweaters. They hide her wrists.  There is a tar road. She sees herself lying on it. She sees his hand inside that girl’s hand. Not many things make sense.

#18october2014 #spilled ink #prose #amberandstardust #writing