✷

occasional rambling

[creatingmoonlight]

The sun hit my window in just the right way

And I saw an old man, in his bed he lay

dying, and turned to his daughter to say

If there's one thing of me you remember, let it be this

Don't let the days go by, don't let there be one thing you miss

Remember you're alive, he said, and she sealed the promise with a kiss

Suddenly the daughter was old, in this vision of mine

And it wasn't long before she grew tired from time

Days, hours, minutes spent to exhaustion, well fine.

But I saw her lips tremble and her eyes sag

Bones heavy with her promise to dear old dad

To stay in constant conscious, living like that had to drag

I watched her sit and think, just as I,

For a better way to spend her life

So that I could hear her answer and make it mine

But her answer didn't come, my vision at an end

When I realized I was lost in my imagination again

making up sad little stories of dying men

I am 23 years old and trying to imitate

Wisdom only told after lifetimes, great.

All I want is to control my fate

None of us know how to live, and I only get one go

I fear I won't do it right, and I won't know

Everything I could have been, all I could have done, though

dying without regrets also seems unnatural, I fear

I'll be far too focused on that to find what I'll hold dear.

I still wonder what wisdom the dying man's daughter couldn't hear

Maybe we need to let some things go, her and I

In living like that she lost her life

A moment is just a moment, and though I may hold it dear

I shouldn't waste the next one living in fear

[creatingmoonlight]

Winter

It's that time of year again 

where I write poems about the snow.

So far, in the life I'm building

the structure is unstable.

So each year I look out a different window

and see the snow from a new angle.

But whatever the context,

the feeling it invokes is the same.

A gentle, calming warmth

the return of which I will always welcome.

Weather the window I look from

tints that fragile white bitter or sweet.

Do you remember your winter coats

far too big, to protect you from snow

sleeves trailing behind your hands

hoods falling in front of your eyes

it never quite looked right

and everyone could tell

12 years old, and only to be told

"you'll grow into it"

More and more these days

I catch a glimpse of myself

in the frosted windows I walk by

and I see myself 

and I see that I am grown.

finally, after everything

I am myself again

and I am grown.

[creatingmoonlight]

maybe I'm well

It's strange

I do not FEEL well

but i no longer feel this urge

to be on a life raft that carried me

the burning aboard persists

but perhaps I jumped off

As though I can swim

facing the harsh waters alone

gasping for air and staying afloat

everything tastes bland

I toss and I turn

my body aches all over

I've felt worse

I've felt better

the snake goes around

and around

and around

winter rain. city lights. endless nights.

winter rain. city lights. endless nights.

I squint my eyes

and I see nothing

forwards and back

I don't feel well

but maybe I am

I no longer feel the urge

I no longer burn

[creatingmoonlight]

if I had something to say

something to think

it would echo

if there were walls

for something to be hollow

there has to be a shell

something on the outside

if I could reach out

and touch something else

how would it feel?

a fresh texture

something new?

or would it feel faded

something I've felt before

but further away

nothing inside

nothing outside

nothing separating the two

nothing new

anything at all would echo

if there was something else

[poisionivvyy]

This is not grief.

I sit to bleed ink not for the boy, not for the sweet-bitter clink of heartbreak in my mouth— but because the silence didn’t blink first

Today, I am a poet by choice, not by crucifixion. Not a girl scraping her ribs for metaphors in the ashtray of old grief.

But I think— God, I think too much. My brain is a clock with no mercy, a pendulum carving thoughts into marrow.

And the world, so impossibly still— like it’s holding its breath while I drown in mine.

I hear my own mind louder than the traffic. It scrapes behind my eyes like sand in the cornea. I feel naked beneath retinas that do not blink. They peel me, layer by layer, until even my nerves are performance.

Freedom becomes a costume I forgot how to unzip. I tiptoe in borrowed skin. I rehearse the act of being seen, as if visibility is a punishment and I am always on trial.

And in this silent tribunal, I vanish— not in some holy, poetic way, but in the way furniture fades into rooms where no one turns the light on.

I used to know myself. Now I only know the version of me they’ll let exist. And I grieve her—the unfiltered girl— like a ghost who never died, just thought too much.

This is not grief. It is a locked door in the back of the brain. And the key, an idea I thought too long and swallowed by mistake.

[drae-annx]

I was wildfire

Blazing, consuming, and insatiable

At your shores the waves tamed my flames

And quelled a thirst I did not know I suffered

Drop by drop, with each passing tide

You became an ocean in my veins

[creatingmoonlight]

collage

A THOUSAND AND NONE

BURNING, BURNING, BURNING

FLOWING, FLOWING, FLOWING

THE BIRTH OF OLD

DEMANDS

THE DEATH OF NEW

GRIEF, LOVE, AND ANGER

THE DUST SETTLES

AND THEY'RE ONE IN THE SAME.

SOMETHING

FAMILIAR

UNRECOGNIZABLE

OVER

AND

OVER

[creatingmoonlight]

I first lost someone when I was 8,

i was inconsolable. 

Since then I've lost everything I ever had. 

People, places and childhood dreams. 

I think back to the summer I was 18, and realize I've lost feelings too,

experiences that can never be recreated. 

I've not cried about losing anything since that first impactful death. 

Since then I've held the grief in my body, a quiet comfort flowing through my vains.

a feeling so familiar I forget it's there, until a spark relights the fire and I remember. 

I remember all that's gone. 

Since then, I've needed greif like plants need water. 

I wonder if it'd be nice to wash away all I've been off of my skin, 

and see myself clearly for the first time 

since then. 

But I need death and rebirth like plants need water, like fires need that first spark. 

And I hold the greif of it all in my body, 

letting it make my head heavy.

[creatingmoonlight]

the masculinization of rage 

has led to the demonization of mine

as a wearer of andgroyny 

my rage must be forced to calm

a silent force 

I mustn't yell

I mustn't feel it

I must be feminine in my rage

or I become the masculine

the danger 

a thing to fear

men have a monopoly on anger

and they use it to enforce terror 

and now I must quiet my rage

to ensure the comfort of those 

who have envoked it

My anger doesn't want to harm

it wants to be heard

another thing taken from me

[creatingmoonlight]

do you think we're more than the flesh and bone and electrical impulses that make up our physical forms?

can the vast quantities of the human existence really be explained as plainly as physiology?

human emotions are explained. we've found a means to control them.

thousands of strings running through me

my mind is a construction

a combination from biological and environmental factors

but is there more to us than that?

something we cannot find

something we can't see or explain?

how do we know for sure it's there?

I guess that's what some people call faith.

[creatingmoonlight]

What do I do

where do I go now

your comfort felt like

knives in my side

and barbed wire

binding my wrists

I can't go back

but I want to be comforted again.

[creatingmoonlight]

The venn diagram of greif and love is a circle.

that's what you tell me

you say my grief is strong

how would you know?

i have lost you too

wrong and right

greif and love

intrinsically intertwined 

vines growing twisted together 

dirt caked deep within

cracks in the stones

waves that sink into sand

the air in my lungs 

and the air outside them

overlapping in their entirety 

complexities that can't be captured 

a fragile and tender bond 

that could never be broken.

my bedroom from when i was 7

been knocked down for years

streams my dog and i used to jump in

completely overgrown and dried up

years in the woods behind my house 

became closed off with large fences

the table where we sat and fought

thrown away, cremated in a landfill 

all these places I loved

would I have come back to it?

if we had more time 

rockets we made collect cobwebs

we never did fix them

my memories are a graveyard

I was his daughter 

but never his son

love and greif 

and anger

the dust settles

and they're one in the same

[creatingmoonlight]

in the absence of pain I would crave it 

in the absence of pain i would create it 

desperate to feel it the same way i did before 

the pain that made me who i was

the pain that helped me grow 

the pain that helped me understand everything 

in the absence of pain i would pick at myself endlessly,

desperate to go back to that place 

and instead i would scab on the surface

[creatingmoonlight]

you don't have to hold me

or stroke my hair

just sit with me for the evening

and be with me there

distract me from myself

make me feel like i could be

just for an hour or two

and if that's not too much for you

could you hold my heart while it breaks

help me catch the pieces

my blood will run through our hands

like water then sand

you can leave when the sun sets

and I will do my best

to clear up the mess I've left

or maybe I'll let my body go cold

my soul reaching out for something

that my body could never reach

maybe I'll lie in it while it dies

and my soul leaves me behind

to rot in the body that couldn't be

but you don't need to stay

you can leave when the sun sets

and I'll remember that I'm me

[creatingmoonlight]

the present is infinite

I'll never forget how to soak in it

time flowing through my hands

water and sand

through it all I'll be me

and I'll live in it

[creatingmoonlight]

(not mine, I just liked it)

[creatingmoonlight]

Hey so I'm new here and just found your account, instant follow. Keep doing you! If you don't mind me asking, would you have any tips for a new writer exploring this space?

This absolutely made my day btw, thank you sm!!

I'm pretty new to this whole thing myself tbh. I'd say just do it for you, because you enjoy it. Do what you want & how you want, there's absolutely no rules as long as you're not hurting anyone. Maybe try not to overthink it too, if that's a problem for you. :)))) have a wonderful day