#illuminar

[these-heavy-words]

friend, do you not remember

how pools of tears flood my swollen eyes

how your tired shoulders beaten down by life

in all its menace & mercilessness

provided me something to lean on

when my legs surrendered to the chaos

brewing in my head- words so loud and callous

they pinned to my lungs & suffocated the air out

words so big i shivered in their shadow

as they carved raw art in my sacred skin

how you coloured me with your soft golden glow

sung of supernovas and distant stars and their dust-

said my blood held some of it too

how you loved a wilting daffodil in water

till it stopped shouting hideousness at its echo

friend, now you're stumbling & your lips

they refuse to smile for a world undeserving

they only open for short raspy breaths that curse

the creation who's dependant on them

friend, here's all the kindness

you sung this corpse alive with

let me sow it in your barren palms

so hyacinths flow your blood once more.

[these-heavy-words]

we’re faceless martyrs of this generation, aren’t we? us, with our bruised wrists and these damned scarred minds. and we’re still trying, aren’t we? one hand paddling to stay afloat, the other around our necks, clasped too tight and we’re still hoping to come out of this alive, aren’t we? even when the darkness whispers otherwise. and we won’t be remembered in books of History, would we? no, not us. not the fools who became their own enemies. but we don’t really care, do we? not when wars rage in our heads and we see everything in bloodshed not when the world is too big a place and we’re too busy trying to save ourselves and not when we’ve seen the universes beheld in One to bother ourselves with everybody else.

we’re survivors // nameless heroes of our own stories

[these-heavy-words]

i. i wish you heard how loud the silence swell, how big it beckoned // somewhere somehow i stumbled onto sadness // all big eyed and eerie // with half a heart in his hand and a promise stuck in his throat // and my eyes never opened the same.

ii. and i wish nostalgia wasn’t the loudest thing on the dance floor // when the bodies moved to the rhythm and the disco lights over-shadowed our insecurities // i wish there was more to dance for than for forgetting.

iii. and i wish i could find that moment // before this got too big for us, before it spilled and shattered our skins // and grow old with you in it.

[these-heavy-words]

september smells of coffee beans too early in the morning. hes alot of sunshine and zero yawning. he takes swift strides, he's planning on trying. he dances in the rain and climbs hills to look at silk sunsets. september isn't what he was this time last year- empty promises & an emptier feeling. he's colored himself in determination, he's risen through it all and he is aiming for the top.

[these-heavy-words]

look: the petals i tore wishing for you. look, how they’re brittle and black. the holy say nothing good comes out of destruction, i’m hoping you and i are an exception.

look, this: the wound on my wrist you bandaged in kisses. this is where hurt enters my body, where sadness swims to my heart. it’s finally healing.

look: the ashes of our wings, the scars from where the fire burnt our backs. we couldn’t fly together, so we’re learning to swim. we’re mortals now, but we’re good at this. or atleast we’re trying.

look: this love. it’s so tiny and timid but it’s still keeping both our worlds standing. it’s giving me a reason to live, you another chance to start hoping. it's painting everything a few shades brighter.

[these-heavy-words]

i’m done trying to make this pain poetic. i’m tired of taking this hurt and covering it in daisies and dandelions and hoping people won’t be able to smell it // all it really is is red and raw and stinging // there’s no beauty in this pain, there’s no poetry in this ache.

[these-heavy-words]

i was everything dark in the world- handful of cigarettes, cheeks mascara stained, cuts and blood and panic attacks in hot showers at 5 am. you were light itself. bold and unbending and everything i craved. i spent an eternity begging you on every falling star, then i finally stumbled onto you and i called out your name and you turned your face and you blinded me till i fade.

light takes away the dark, i learned the hard way

[these-heavy-words]

and you know the worst part of it is how how easy it is to blend in. how simple it is to hide the what-if-i-stopped-existing in your eyes without you even trying. and that’s what breaks you, isnt it? because you don’t want them to know, you don’t even know what you’d do if they found out. but this is so much worse. because you’re a cluster of chaos staring out into the most beautiful place God created and somehow you’re supposed to be unsurprised by the fact that nobody noticed it. everything around you is beauty and your insides contrast that so perfectly and God it sucks being so invisible, so mute even when you’re screaming your lungs hollow. and oh, sweet irony, oh.

screaming emptiness