#prosetry

[mother-of-mayflowers]

i'm at my desk with my laptop on my thighs and the hozier cd i bought with a bit of my last paycheck playing loudly, and my cheeks are a bit warm from the whiskey and i'm okay!!!! i'm okay!!!!!!! happy was always a fleeting, sparklingly rare emotion, something to be felt on the first truly warm day of the summer and at the top of rollercoasters right beside the terror. i am happy now. right now. i have been happy for two months. i have cried - in my therapist's armchair, at the dining table, at 3pm on the bus after staring blankly at the asphalt from a park bench with my stomach swirling dangerously since one-fifty-three - and i do not regret a thing. i do not regret you. i do not regret me. i am happy. it is raining, greyish palm trees whipping in the wind, and i am thinking about icarus. to fall; to soar. to kiss the sun and plummet with her warmth still heating your fingertips.

alive is a choice. happy is what happens next.

[rakkan]

Prayer for Relief

In some next world, we will meet again as equals. I will not remember what you like to drink. Instead, I will take your face into my hands and run my thumbs over your eyebrows: I know you. I know you. I know you. Like you told me that first time. Called me by my name before I had spoken it to you.

When you leave, I will not look for the splinter in the soft underside of my arm. It will appear even then as you rise from the table. The difference will be that I do not reach to pick it out. I will tuck my elbow close to my body. No longer trying to keep the sharpness from piercing skin between ribs, finding its place in that red muscle, and growing warm.

[evenasmallcough]

IT’S SEPTEMBER

and I was wondering if you miss me too. Just a little? Like, when the leaves are red and falling, do you ever stop and think what you hear is the sound of my heart? She still plays for you like a swift song, babe. Waited by the door for you. Saw you everywhere— like daylight. ‘Cause it was never a clean break. ‘Cause I miss you. And I almost call you. I almost do.

It's September. Another phantom sunrise, and I can’t get out of bed. If tomorrow ever comes, maybe all this nothing will amount to something. Spiderwebs and reindeer moss. Candlewax and polaroids. Dust and butterflies. Silence. You were always too comfortable with silence.

It’s September. End of summer. Heat wave. (breathe in) Heartache. (breathe through) Heartbreak. (breathe deep) And I think, I think this pain will never fade. You’ve given me a lot (breathe out)

to cry about. But it’s September, and I’m watching the sky again. Windows open. Hair as long as sunlight. Pretty yellow dress with the flowers. It’s September, and there are peach trees to lean on and mountains of books to read. I’m still finding it hard to sleep—but when I do I don’t dream of you anymore.

September and I just wanna tell you: I miss you, but not the months of back and forth. How it wore out the footprint of us until it looked as if we’d never met.

- cora finch

[sunafterthestorm]

These little hands

Are mind to hold

Minds to mold

Hearts to grow

If I could give you anything

It would be the whole world on a string

So hear me when I whisper close

I’ll be wherever you choose to go

Love,

Mom 🩷

[azukilynn]

Snapshot

I wish that I could give you words as lovely as the day you stood on that rickety dock at Bonnet Pond, looking through your little binoculars, seeing things I can only imagine. You may have seen a heron or a hawk. You may have seen a turtle or a frog. My eyes saw only you, and words could never capture that kind of seeing, that kind of knowing, that vastness, that depth, that fleeting moment of forever. The inner certainty of a love so rare, it can only be held in silent wonder, as it was held on that sunlit day, I hold it now, in memory of you, this gem inside my heart.

[lebuc]

green tea musings

* from my lofty perch on high, lowered onto the landscape - the realm of flora & fauna

precious few things rend a tear of regret

as much as watching the destruction of said 'scape one property contract at a time, brick at a time, excavation by excavation

for ostentatiously austere hovels stacked, not sprawled

with the attendant coffee & noodle - ahem, palaces of baristas, noodlistas young, hip foodies posturing…

against this backdrop walks this - i swear i'm not jealous -

grossly-nostalgic, jaded jackalope of a scrawler, scraping barren boulevards in literary lost cities of angels,

still freshly paved over what once were cobblestones carefully laid by craftsmen, brick by brick by brick.

in them, i keep walking until *we* hit an unending field of green, green grass - me & my two bare feet. * 3/24 - lebuc - green tea musings

[poetryshewrote]

two hearts

two aching hearts, intertwined.

both of them, cards on the line.

neither of them, surrender their pride.

two futures that no longer align.

how their love, now disoriented.

separation seemingly cemented.

two aching hearts, pulled apart.

not entirely ready to restart.

[flowersandspacestuff]

Many sweet birds flying high

In the pale blue sky

Sun gently illuminating

The invisible electromagnetic fields of trees

Dawn coming on