The Undoing

Emma, writer. 18. she/they. Silence does not live here anymore.

[inkythoughts]

I forgot to kiss you goodbye. Think I left the lights on behind your eyes; I can still see them flickering in stop-motion metronome time-keeping, counting. three, four, shut the door.

I forgot to kiss you goodbye, so your lips open-shut open-shut like fish out of water, like my mother reciting prayers, like a secret that cannot wait. It comes running out your lips, down your chin, sticky strawberry juice staining every inch.

That was a brand new shirt, she scolds. But you smile and lick your fingers, make loud smacking sounds between giggles, and ignore her.

e.k. (inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

2.21.20 (e.k. @ inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

1.30.20 (ek @ inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

Sometimes, her words slap you across the face so hard you see her eyes instead of stars. She holds galaxies within her, unafraid to show the infinites that course through veins just below the surface– It is unexpected. Other days, we sunbathe in the warm glow of contented silence; She knows she is enough to fill the empty air surrounding us, Does not try to compensate or explain. She just is. It is often difficult to be left alone with yourself, but her consciousness is like an old friend she doesn’t mind entertaining. I don’t think I will ever understand how she does it, but I wish I could, too.

starbaby (via inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

In this snapshot, we were both smiling big and bright, but– you were looking up at the sky, away, and I was looking at you. It wasn’t just the pictures that were like that. Everything we ever did was me looking at you and you looking at anything else.

i should have seen it sooner (via inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

There is a little

gold fleck

in the bottom left corner of his eye.

And my sister says it’s fucked, 

what he did,

but he has such a nice smile.

He throws his head back,

and, with canines glinting in the street light

trickling lazily through the window,

is, for a single moment, almost beautiful.

When he is done,

he leans his elbow on my seventh rib 

and carves a notch in it 

while I grit my teeth,

shaking my head

silently.

[inkythoughts]

Sweet words drip from your lips

like honey onto mine,

sticky red sealing wax

that your kiss stamps

shut,

my mouth the back of an envelope 

with a letter inside

that you don’t want to read.

Sometimes you tell me you love me

and I say nothing--

I know a sweet lie when I see one and anyway,

I am not a tasting menu.

you do not get to pick and choose

which parts to devour

and which parts to push aside.

Sweet words drip from your lips

like honey onto mine,

but that trick doesn’t work on me anymore

and I tell you to be careful or 

you might catch flies.

[inkythoughts]

I had to set up three mirrors just to see it,

pulling twisting straining

like an over-enthusiastic art critic:

bruise the size and shape of door knocker (brass)

medium: woman’s back.

You were an artist pushing me

into that door--

how funny you can walk away unscathed and 

I am left

watching this sinister gift

turn from black to purple to green to yellow, 

a vengeful keepsake

of vicious love.

You may leave

and the bruise will fade,

yet still I worry 

I will never be rid of the stain.

[inkythoughts]

We showed up late to love,

uncoordinated,

a little drunk.

stumbled over each other’s feet

and mouths

and strong opinions,

struggling to name the inexplicable.

We showed up late to faith,

and quite a pair we made—

an atheist

and one who only wants the comfort of capital G god

when the bed is cold

and/or the universe feels too big to bear.

when you called me fickle,

I laughed and didn’t answer

because I am what you say I am, am I not?

We showed up late to the end

with our watches on.

laid listening to the ticking breathing ceiling fan hum rustle of the room

and said nothing as the winter sun came up

to sear away the early morning mist.

[inkythoughts]

We are perpetually too late or too early;

one who cannot keep time and

another who does not care to.

how much help does fate need before we call it

coincidence?

We are an unfortunate paradox

and both kiss the wrong people goodnight

because we did not try

to make things right.

[inkythoughts]

I think of all the sacrifices I have made

to endear myself to an unforgiving God,

and decide that she will not be one of them.

I can’t bring myself to call it sinful and anyway,

some things are too good to be sorry for.

[inkythoughts]

In the middle of the bed, with hands outstretched above his head, the man becomes a skyscraper, so tall he is almost godlike. The freckles on his back are constellations; I play connect the dots across his skin, staring up at the sky with that disobedient tongue of his, always poking out the corner of his mouth. In the middle of the bed with hands outstretched he beckons; the man becomes a child, pressing his ear against me so he can hear my heart beating, clutches at my arms and waist and chest, searching desperately for something earthbound to ground him. I try not to think about the way we are dangling above an infinite abyss, bound only to this life by the gravity which clings to us like a crying child at our feet, pleading stay, stay. please stay. What a wonder it is to stare the universe in the face and call it beautiful as though we are not pitiful, as if the universe can be described in any way we could understand.

ek (inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

The color of the trees is an ambiguous brownish-greyish-green; I could be just about anywhere, breathing under these aching skyscrapers, these skeleton hands stretching ever higher, reaching for something they don’t know but can feel in their bones: something bigger than belief or apathy. Along the path and past the circle of kind old oaks is a burnt out car, stalled in a ditch and left to rot unabashedly. Sometimes, on nights when it is very cold and very quiet, in between coyote howls, you can almost hear the muffled engine, rumbling softly in the dark.

ek (inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

Been away for a little while (ok, a long while!) and realized that none of my posts are formatted correctly for mobile anymore! I haven’t decided yet if I’m just going to tailor my formatting to desktop or if I’ll try to fix them.

If anyone knows how to format for mobile please send help! 

[inkythoughts]

I tried to wish it away, to wash it away, dousing myself in holy water like gasoline, but it didn’t work and now the hellfire consumes me. I tried to exorcise it out like a demon, like the power of Christ compels thee, only-- that’s not a compelling argument anymore. I mean, have you seen her? She has secrets in her lips and I want to taste them all. There is a light inside her and I want to touch it, think she might be more holy than all the hail marys I have ever said. I tried to outrun it, but her eyes are like lit windows and I am a moth, helplessly drawn to the flame.

ek (inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

ek (inkythoughts)

[inkythoughts]

You had a smile so bright it drew me to you like a moth to a flame. But you burned me— God, you burned me every time, and I didn’t even mind.

ek (inkythoughts)