🥰🥰😭😭 This Is So Damn Sweet

my heart lurches into my throat and lodges at the back like a jagged-edge stone. my lungs sprout wings and fly away.

the aching of their absence in my chest is heavy, despite my rib cage housing hollow. my skin jumps and begs to rip free.

i wake, and it is not a dream. my body is running from me, yet my mind will not free itself- it delights in it's cranial prison.

i wake, and your body is still rotting 6 feet under, your heart and lungs and skin and mind no more- but i cannot gift mine.

paused mid breakdown after THAT scene from TLOU season 2 to document the psychic and physical damage that WILL inspire my next piece. ache in the back of my throat still hasn’t subsided. i pray for every poor soul who never saw it coming, or knew it was. a tragic, haunting, brawling masterpiece that will BE 2020s television legacy.

i was going through boxes of books and old clothes when i found the scarf you lent me.

we were going to the football and it was cold and i didn’t bring a jacket, so you lent me your scarf- your favourite team scarf.

how is it possible for a scarf to claw its way into my chest and stop my heart from beating? it’s not? well, it’s happening. it’s possible.

i almost forgot what it was like to be 16, and to love my best friend with my whole heart- my best friend who secretly loved me a little too much;

i almost forgot what it was like at 18 to kiss you in the dead of night and dismiss you in the morning;

i almost forgot how entwined we once were, how many libraries i could fill with every story and aching that passed between us.

staring at your scarf, now dusted by 10 years, i can’t think of anything else.

there’s an echoing in my bones telling me to

leave this place

and not return.

i can’t decide if it’s fear or fire.

my jaw clenches

and my teeth grit

and i can’t seem to stop the rope

from slipping, fraying.

my tether is escaping me

and is it fear or fire?

i need to know

before i decide.

do i leave this place?

this purpose and pay check?

do i slink away like a fox

in the night?

where’s the rope?

hello?

where’s the light?

hello?

can you hear me?

she’s a faint star in a cluster;

your eyes need time to adjust to the dark

before you can spot her.

but then, you can’t miss her.

you’ll map her coordinates

and check in every night,

watch her rise and fall

throughout the seasons

and twinkle beyond wisps of cloud.

she’ll be one in millions, billions, trillions?

but she’ll be yours.

oh, the human condition …..

Sotce

she is literally perfect…

the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself

plopped into cool water, my manus flattens against the stone below as a bowl upturns like a dome above.

my marble eyes ring with the warning of moonlight, my skin glistens, slick with sage-

i peer at my greenhouse, pads reaching to press the convex glass, curiosity caressing my face-

but comfort follows me beneath the water, serenity tying me back to stone.

then steam clouds the cage; lids close off sight, then sound- suddenly, silenced, i muster one last croak. poetrycommunity

death by comfort // the boiling frog

i woke up at 4am to my cat throwing up beside me in bed. guess this is what married life looks like 😔