Somewhere We Are.

Sometimes we need a place to dump the world. To pull apart the seams of our chests and cry to strangers. This is that. J.L.C.

[leight-inthe-dark]

Identity poem. Was asked to write a poem about my identity using a list of “I am” statements in a group today, but this came forward instead.

[leight-inthe-dark]

is.na

Is Not Applicable

i’m out here on my own

you’re not coming to save me

no one is

[destroymylife]

[hibiscusroom]

[recaption]

[leight-inthe-dark]

There is an imprint of a frog on my back

From a poem by Mary Oliver.

It is sticky sweat oozing down spine,

Leaking into the small of my back

Screaming, “You do not have to be good.”

My own skin whispers back

“But don’t I?” And sears the grime.

I don’t know what to do with my own badness.

Punishment for my “sins” seems necessary

But so does radical acceptance.

All I can do is close my eyes,

Hoping for a better tomorrow where

My brain requires less dopamine

And more compassion.

Slowly I rise from my grave I dig once a night.

I claw my way out of the dirt and into the light.

Shame that no one is near to see the resurrection.

[angelicxi]

          IMAO KEINEN           kacho gafu, 1891

[thegoodvybe]

[inspiration-and-motivation]

We are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. - Oscar Wilde

[backtooblack]

[backtooblack]

[tootaytofunction]

[as-all-else-failed-x-deactivate]

[leight-inthe-dark]

Fill my lungs with flowers I’m not used to coughing but I’d gladly produce for you the seeds so you can see. You can plant them in your garden of regrets and I’ll keep a few for my own. Who would have known? Somethings perceived as good in reality they were weeds crawling up my throat. Perhaps my little garden is comprised of dandelions and dayflowers and other things too small for human adoration. Maybe I am too too small. Pluck the petals from my hair and count to see- Undoubtedly, she loves me.

[juansendizon]

“I contain constellations inside my mind and all of my stars shine for you. Am I dreaming this life? You. You are a wish come true.”

— Juansen Dizon, Soulmate

[leg-stealing-bee]

I love the sound of your voice. It sounds like honey, and feels like velvet. If only I could be close enough to place my lips against yours, and taste that rose flavored tongue. -G

Fuck I wanna kiss you so bad

[leight-inthe-dark]

I just started a load of laundry

In hopes that it will wash away

The discomfort around expression

From my identity.

I imagine little people

As they run up and down

My pant legs

My shirt sleeves

My bra straps

Steadily scrubbing the internal

Abuse from the fabric.

They peel off the fine layers

Of self hatred and grime

Only to leave behind a shell

For my body to fill once more.

And, with no doubt,

I will climb from bed tomorrow

To don these scraps and

They will become one with me again.

My self doubt

And insecurities will

Stain my shirt pits

And my pant cuffs.

The devil raging inside me will

More than likely

Dirty my underwear

Leaving me in my own filth

Until I find time again

To do the laundry.