crow•clover

they/he/ze/vi/xe Neurodivergent Queer TransGenderfluid Nonbinary Writer journal blog

[grendelmenz-deactivated20200929]

some sort of love poem

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I talked to a young man with white hair on a boat cabin in the middle of a stormy sea. He forgot everything about himself exept for the fact that his name rhymed with ‘Time’ so he started calling himself Time.

I offered him an orange in exchange for a meaningful chat. He took the slice and told me “Nothing’s set in stone, but they’re set in a dirt road. If you roll your wagon in the same path too much it’ll soon be the only path you can take without struggling.”

[julykings]

i can’t think of anything to write about. there’s too much existence. maybe my dreams when they all blend like oil + i’m at once eating + not eating + licking something thick from his fingers. or how before bed  a man with a precious name tells me he wants me in his arms. he knows little about me. just that the only thing by sufjan stevens was the song i heard most last year. only that i made lots of permanent + ugly mistakes when i was 16. look at my legs. i go on long walks every morning + barely see the word. i only see the world when it’s dark out + i’m driving alone with my dog howling in the back seat. 

[godspeedmp3-deactivated20200914]

jenny slate / two, sleeping at last / an oresteia, euripidies (trans. anne carson) / the chaos of stars, kiersten white

[featheredpoet]

i think my anxiety is getting worse

[imsorrythings]

I'm sorry, but

I love you.

I know, I know. Cliche.

And it's not time for you to know, but

how am I going to still the way that

these words

percolate like helium

from the pores on my chest?

They leak from my arms,

clawing their way through the ducts

in the skin of my hands,

escaping in my sweat and spit,

adding weight to each exhale.

Maybe you can taste them

when I kiss you,

secret under my tongue

sweetening the consonants

that hiss from behind from my teeth.

Maybe you can feel them tug at you

from my fists, clenched full of your back,

clutching the skin on your thighs,

or from my teeth, gripping your neck,

so innocuously and hungrily.

I grasp at you so fully, so sweetly,

as I wait for the right time to loose them,

saying without saying without saying,

hoping I can steady myself

from spinning out.

[featheredpoet]

i feel things, always, too deeply. i feel the unspoken emotions of those around me. the lingering sadness, the overwhelming joy, the unbridled hatred, and i

feel

it

all.

it swells inside me and it pours out. and i can't contain it. and it consumes me. and i feel. and i feel. and i feel

nothing

at

all.

[c-isnenegro]

[julykings]

it seems it always ends here: desert road, august woozy + hot. we’ve found ourselves in this oozing landscape painting where the horizon never ends + is  also somehow lit up, kind of bonfire the way you can still  feel the sun under your skin even in the dark. big moon,  big uneasy west shaking red neon, all melty with sage, hay fever, dust, dust on our hands. every canyon is a carved, lovesick thing.

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

“This hour is your temple. The waxing moon your altar. What you pray for stains.”

— ‘When My Brother Was an Aztec: Mariposa Nocturna,’ Natalie Diaz

[sonnywortzik]

“Survivors look back and see omens, messages they missed. They remember the tree that died, the gull that splattered onto the hood of the car. They live by symbols. They read meaning into the barrage of spam on the unused computer, the delete key that stops working, the imagined abandonment in the decision to replace it.”

— The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

[blxckberrying]

13. Tell me what you know about dismembermenet You want to live? Finally, you’re alone. The ice drifts in the hollows. You walked here. The sheer maroon cliffs. The silver bones of your pelvis. The bright blue sky. Your bloodstone. This water. Something huge and without music has just happened.

Bhanu Kapil, from “A Vertical Interrogation of Strangers”

[spillywolf-deactivated20190920]

If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it

[oncemylove-deactivated20180625]

this is beautiful

[randomslasher]

By this same token, maybe goodness isn’t the absence of bad thoughts or impulses, but the conscious choice to behave according to your moral ideals in spite of them. 

[mossofthewoodsjewelry]

I was standing on my porch in the rain watching a thunderstorm flash through the clouds on the near horizon when a fox calmly trotted past me a stone’s throw away, and turned to look at me without a hint of fear, and it’s eye caught the lightning flash in just such a way as to, for a moment, look like a blinding jewel, and I felt like I was being seen past my skin, and I would say I think I beheld a forest god but I think that’s just sort of that every day raw and unknowable power that lives in summer nights in the country.

[featheredpoet]

being an adult is really fucking hard sometimes

[artintheages]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Alicia Ostriker, from The Imaginary Lover: Poems; “ As If I Have Eaten Fire,”