Paradise @organicbeams - Tumblr Blog

Follow my poetry blog

Hello everyone

My new main account is my poetry blog: the mortal muse I'll be very active on there. This blog will keep existing as it is my main account on Tumblr, but I won't be using it to post.

themortal-muse

Pyromaniac

I spent the afternoon in the right hemisphere, wandering the curved hallways, dusting off old habits and tripping over a grudge I thought I’d thrown away years ago. I found it huddled in the corner, looking smaller than I remembered, but just as sharp.

That’s the thing about this architecture: there is no “delete forever” in the neocortex. There are only storage lockers with broken latches. I walked past a collection of “almosts” (the person I almost became, the words I almost said, the things I almost did) stacked like charred firewood.

I tried to push them further into the shadows, but I know how this floor plan works. I’ll see them again on Tuesday. I’ll see them every time I take the long way home. When they ignite again…

themortal-muse

My first haiku

themortal-muse

I am a disco ball shattered into a million reflective pieces on the dancefloor of my past.

Being broken does not make me ugly. I am a thousand mirrors reflecting, blinding, shining: the beauty I amassed through the pain.

themortal-muse

Hoarder

Many of the same, I let nothing go.

Clutched tight, a white-knuckled grip, against the cruel departure.

Heart full of lies, room full of stuff. I am a hoarder of memories, rejections, people, and mistakes.

themortal-muse

Is this Eternity?

I stare at the screen. The tiny pixels blur the corner of my sunken eyes. The clattering of keyboards in the background, a rhythm like raindrops on a tin roof. My fingertips, numb, hover above the black keys. The cursor flashes, flashes, flashes — Waiting for me to turn this blank space into an odyssey of words.

Is this all there is? Is this really life? Is this my eternity? I feel stuck, like a chewed piece of bubblegum pressed to the sole of my fake leather boot. I am water in a broken bucket, held together by thin strips of duct tape, waiting for the slow, inevitable burst of all that’s held inside.

I am a static current in an endless loop of light, watching the clock devour minutes I can't reclaim. I yearn for something real! Something beyond the synthetic warmth of a computer screen. But the chair holds me down, and the words won't come out. Just the dull, echoing click, the silent scream of the unsent thought.

The cursor flashes, flashes, flashes...