#sehnsuchtes

[sehnsuchtes]

HER: sometimes people look at me and i can feel their pupils sliding all over me, like black, frostbitten fingers.  just touching everything but anything that matters -- the idle laugh stuck at the back of my throat or a second's embarrassment in my cheek, all red and hot.  just touching.  never feeling.  groping and twisting what isn't theirs for a moment's pleasure -- and, you know, sometimes, it makes it feel so sick i stop breathing, i just stop.  but then, i see you looking at me, and it's like spring just sighs on my face, because all i wanna do is open right up in the cup of your palm.  blossom, maybe, into some pretty little flower -- no, fuck that, fuck that, i wanna creep up your arm like a vine and take you by the throat.  i wanna be so close i can hear your blood humming for fear of it, so close that i forget where i end and you begin.

LOOKING // h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

3 am reads  like cupped palms holding cheeks overflowing. 3 am reads  like the lovestory of two heads pressed together. 3 am reads of tilted half eternities and their ache what does it mean to have half of forever? half full, half empty, entirely incomplete?

3am // h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

i miss the long nights 

that bled into mornings

all resting on the tones

of your voice that lulled

me to you

like the sea to the shore

you to me

like blue to a pale dawn

[sehnsuchtes]

happiness harks  to tides crashing and rain's soft whisper. it sings in songs echoing and incomplete, resting on rays of soft, soft sun. it is wandering feet, an endless journey. the blink of an eye and the white poof that bursts  from open lips in the bowels of january. always there, searching. sometimes lost, sometimes found.

up days // h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

And at times, you feel like a bundle of broken teeth, or a vial of vomit: all edges, acid and uncertainty. Worry leans against the back of your eyes, pressing light against them as a water does to the tea leaf, leaving a brew blinding. It puckers your lips, burns your tongue and leaves your stomach twisting and heaving. The tips of your nerves scream for mercy. You have none to give.

"sleeplessness" // h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

Night and I have always been good companions. Even in the days of more vibrant youth, when the whole world was one made for exploring, I longed for the quiet countenance of night. For by its side, I could gaze into the face of its most brilliant eye, the moon, and learn to trace my most true reflection. You see, I am a firm believer in the fact That there is so much to be seen in the dark. Secrets only shadows can seduce out of their keeping, That sunlight would reduce to mere ash and smoke.

h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

a friend told me once i must have the most beautiful, shining, red ruby heart because i manage to spin words into shapes beguiling. i told her no,  it is a bleeding, wretched thing; red, yes, but more of an eyesore than anything worth placing on a pretty, outstretched finger. but hey, i get it. from far away all the eye can see is something sanguine sweet, shining in the moonlight and cupped in hungry hands. all the eye ever wants to see is something pretty and worth loving. and so i can understand,  why sores are turned into sapphires and scars into laugh lines. but understanding is the first and last step to undoing any spell; to shattering the great shapeshifting secret that saved this world from ruin. that gave peace and prettiness a home in chaos. so the shape of magic won’t sit on my lips anymore. runes have forgotten how to dance through my throat. and the world’s beauty sits in my lap: a bundle of unravelled string.

“seeing” // h.b.

[sehnsuchtes]

It's somewhere between the rattling whine of a far too dry professor, and the wet struggle of a sick, sick inhale. On the surface of this tired, black desk and in the herbal huffs of my own – my mother's, and so my own – perfume. It's somewhere between all these things, quiet and humble, now and past, oncoming and waiting, that I realise I'm happy. For now, I'm happy. For now, I'm full. For now, this is enough.

“IT'S A GOOD MORNING” // h.b.