sonnet the hedgehog

18 • ireland • writes stuff sometimes

[abirdfulbox-deactivated20200329]

evening poem for 7th jan 2019

Not much was my happiness, a contingent case of not having pain today. I did not break through this world, never heavened even when I died; The bed and the dirty plates were still there to clean. But I did keep them made. And perhaps the miracle is of some thoughts beyond my own, knowing in their own way  a world felt appreciative

[embroideredscars-deactivated202]

I wanted to write

To let all the demons dance on paper

And let them paint a story

Of tears that wont fall

Of a sun that will never rise.

-

But today there were no bonfires

Around which to dance

In which to burn

The thorns of apathy.

No place where to

Break free

Of a skin that didn’t fit

And became tighter and tigther

Every second.

-

There was no spring well

In which to drown

The boiling insanity,

Whose choir of waterfalls

Would make the screams

Seem a little further

Like an army marching in the distnace

Rather than gunshots

Next to my ears.

-

Today there were no sacred ceremonies

Where intestines of forest spirits

Would whisper me sweet lies

About primroses growing

In my mind.

Both the intestines

And the spirits

Chose not to speak today.

-

There were no memories

For me to run to

To see the smell of grass

As home

And hear the cracking of the flames

Hugging me

Telling me epos

About the death of every branch.

-

I was alone

And the world owed me nothing

[emerwrites]

and the irony of it is that now I understand. now I understand how it feels to not want a serious relationship, to want intimacy without commitment. that idea used to be foreign to me. the way I saw it you were either in a relationship or you weren’t. when you told me - only after several months I might add - you weren’t looking for something serious I was furious. frustrated that you were being so childish, devastated that there was no future for us, mortified that I had let you string me along for so long. but now I find myself entangled with people that I want no future with. I crave intimacy and protection but the thought of being tied down to one person terrifies me. I’m telling people the same thing that I cursed you for telling me. I don’t want serious anymore. because of you.

so I guess what I’m wondering is, who hurt you?

[letters-from-alex]

“Falling in love is like a car crash. It takes two to happen at the right place, at the right time. And suddenly you wonder how this possibly happened? If only I didn’t take the long way home. If only I wasn’t driving 71 mph instead of 70. If only I didn’t take that extra minute to find the right song to play on the radio. Could all this been avoided? That’s how falling in love can be. You find someone without actually looking. You crash into them and all of a sudden, you realize every single choice you made in your entire life, whether bad or good, led up to this moment. This moment where the love of your life is standing right in front of you. And as you look into their eyes, everything just makes sense.”

— what does falling in love feel like? | Patreon | Instagram

[theheightofdepression]

word by word

line by line

poem by poem

another layer gone.

you think I´m closed off

secretive when I´ve been

naked all along.

[wittywinothe2nd]

anger is 

sadness in a dress 

and I’m going out tonight

-lg

[lost-andfound]

Deep Breath

The moment thickens like syrup.

we are two flies

trapped in gold

I have a thousand eyes, I see

outside myself, us from

above

your arms around me, your

lips

on mine

frozen in amber

held in the stone arms

of no time at all

[emerwrites]

the inability to cope

It wasn’t that I never asked for help.

It’s that I asked so often

and cried so loudly

that they all stopped listening

[medusapoetry]

deity

With a crown of nightshade And violent lips like honey, I became my own monarch.

Bittersweet smiles, I drink feral wine, A vortex swallowing Violet stars.

A necklace of divinity Carved into my throat, I digest mortality Like a fevered delusion Rotting in my stomach.

Poisonberry On my cheekbones, I became my own god.

[icy selene woods] © 2018

[teacup13-deactivated20200319]

I always want sunsets to last

longer than my bruising

fingernails can divorce

the colors of a daisy, what

do you do with words that

feel like stale hands? I am

made of your absence,

without you I am silence &

though I’ve fallen under the

woes of this mistreated tongue,

I know we might not have a

chance, but darling, I don’t

mind losing

[m00nlight-reflection-blog]

I want to live to ninety nine,

That’d be just fine.

I want to drink hot whiskey in the

Middle of winter,

And treat my first born’s cuts & splinters,

Spend my summers visiting the Cliffs of Moher,

Take road trips síos gach bóthar.

Ninety nine would be just fine,

It would give me enough time

To walk the mountain trails in Peru,

Take in the Pacific Ocean view.

I could celebrate New Years in Times Square,

Or breathe in that Malin Head air.

Ninety nine is all I need,

All I need to do each deed

That I have set out to do,

Like spend my life next to you.

[m00nlight-reflection-blog]

Love is a shadow

Or the voice of nothing,

Echoing, echoing.

It is what you most fear.

All I feel

Is it’s soft, feathery touch.

I let her go,

I let her go.

Yet still, she comes and goes.

Her face replaces the darkness,

Of my soul,

Her radiance consumes me.

The wind rushes through me,

Playing my ribs like pan flutes.

I am one with her cries,

Her howls,

As we become

The voice of nothing.

[graffiti-scars]

I am both

the girl in the ground

and the woman at her grave

crying out her name.

[alittlebitofnightmusing]

How I Learned To Dance

After you feel the rug

Rippped from beneath

You and cut into scattered-tattered pieces

For the second time,

You learn to dance

[deepthoughtswithemm]

i don’t think shouting louder gets a person anyway farther than a sore throat and sick notion of despair

there’s one path left

no returns

just a single unending abyss

blacker than the jealous sky

home to blinking stars.

agony screams louder than i could ever

it seems to bubble up in my throat,

around my ears

up to the waterfalls behind my eyes

pouring down my neck into my heart

threatening drowning,

begging.

if agony’s piercing screams live deep inside

this pulsing vault

locks noise in like a sound proof room.

a whole forest of trees keep falling within this cage

just to rebuild themselves for death.

this faulty digression must be a mistake

how does anyone believe in fate if all that resides is a dull painful ache of what’s meant to be.

hatred burns every bone in my body for you

hatred burns every bone in your body for me

i hope you burn first

then the damaged caused from this wildfire of sick notion to a better life can ease these wounds

until the fire dies out

and all but ruins lives on

as caution

- do you really love me?

[bumbleblossoms]

wrap me in a blanket of ashlar stars and sing a lullaby when my eyes flicker drifting between what I know and what I fear    take me with you along the water like a ripple in the current and I will bless your nose with a snowy kiss    hold me in your arms and whisper a story of our history that is only half true painted with pastel and a little too much gold    until I have forgotten the line between what I know and what I fear body rumbling into a night with no ropes to hold back my dancing feet

Miriam K (via bumbleblossoms)

[irregularspace]

...

Occasionally, there is a pause. A brief awareness, where, for a breath, there is a profound acuity of perception. Unveiling the membrane between moments, it is an emergence of being, between what we perceive as reality, and the worlds of anticipation, fiction, and memory