I would enfold into myself, I swear.
Crumple under that weight, till I'm nothing.
I would just drown inside this lie I wear--
Suffocating sea of white, blank feeling.
I could soar above those shadows, I could,
And then what numbness would awaken me?
Die with eyes wide open, when all is good,
When I have given all I am to be.
I just close my eyes and dream of blindness,--
No doubt the brightest dove is more opaque,--
For ignorance is the greatest kindness:
Infinity is beautiful when vague.
I can't hear the music birds sing at dawn.
I can't leave this hole until night is gone.
I've set my sights
The target is clear
Although I am lost now
No one can find myself but me
So I will
And I'll get there
I'll do it, I'll make it happen
I'll reach my stars
Tread on any ground to get there
Toil and cry and crumple in fear
But I will get there
And prove you wrong
Live and prove you wrong
(We smell like kindling driftwood)
(We smell like pagan victors)
Lashes like weeds planning their battle on my wept, wet cheeks.
(We smell like newborn foxes on a bed of blooming baby dandelions)
Blistered toes and explosions in the sky.
(We smell like red skies and flesh cooked dry)
Cool drizzles on bare skin bike rides.
(We smell like damp reminiscence)
Sex and sweat and minimal frustration.
(We smell like beachside bonfires on breezeless Labor days.)
Walks that crumple autumn death.
(We smell like warm apple cider)
3 am coffee in the middle of November.
(We smell like toasted socks)
Holiday cookies and midday oral.
(We smell like cinnamon Schnapps)
Morning mimosas in cotton bathrobes.
(We smell like candied inebriation)
A chance of more snow.
(We smell like waiting patiently)
Pollen romps in tulip beds.
(We smell like newborn babies)
We smell like every ending I watched as a kid
andwhen you said this will never end
I rolled over.
We roll our own cigarettes
with a water bottle full of Merlot,
chase the gulls,
(no credits roll here)
watch the worms flood the streets,
feel the Category Five sweep the cicada shells right by us,
take cover in snow-covered sheds,
I wear headscarves, your sweaters and sometimes
nothing at all.
I ride bikes, the crest of waves
and storms that take coasts by inimical force.
I just hope the seasons never change
You said this will never end
and grabbed me by the gruff of the neck
like a tom with a kitten
licked the cream from your seeking hands,
laid down my swords
nuzzled in your coarse brown fur,
and I smiled and I
This is victory.
(We smell like God’s best laid plans)
When we are so used to hating ourselves
That to others, we do the same
When we scream things pulled out
Of our own shattered mirrors
Later to wallow in steel-hearted shame
We crumple together
So I'm asking you
Right here and right now
As a girl too young to know much
Teach me otherwise
To the people who
are desperately in love
with someone who
is tinged with darkness
and has evidence of
on them forever,
there is something
you should know.
It’s been maybe 14 days
since I coloured my
hand shades of
red, and black,
and blue, and purple
and yellow, and green,
for the fourth time, I think.
I think I’ve lost count.
See, the problem with self-harm,
is that you can’t ever get rid of it.
Yes, the bruises on
my hand from punching
concrete walls may
but do you think
the tiny cracks in
the bones of my knuckles,
and the slight swelling
when you compare them
to my other hand won’t stay?
Yes, the scars from cutting
may have faded slowly,
but do you think a few
layers of skin
is enough to
keep them away for good?
Yes, I am happy at
this moment but
do you think I
can forget the times
where my mind
was just darkness
and I was calling out
for someone to
turn on the light?
If you are in love with
someone like me,
understand that you
can never fix us.
You can get rid of
the evidence for now,
but our edges are still
jagged from the times
we have had to protect
ourselves from hurt,
and you may step
back and find lacerations
You can see only
brightness for now,
but when you look
at your skin,
you will find smears
of black on yourself;
confirmation that we
may seem clean like
once you’ve held us
for too long,
we leave dark marks on you,
and we are equally as
set us on fire,
Don’t make us believe we posses enough significance for you to stay.
We are only paper to you.
As I sat before my table,
One somber winter day,
I turned my gaze and noted,
The gray walls going gray.
The clock was well on six o clock,
The sheet before me bare,
But something held me rooted,
Inexplicably to that chair.
As a grave twilight deepened,
To a murky nighttime gloom,
I lit a candle and cast my eyes,
Lovingly about the room.
But the light it slowly brightens,
Illuminates my form,
A sudden flash, it burns away,
My world, it turns to storm.
Paper thin, a house of cards,
Teetering on its feet,
It melts into my fire,
And crumbles in its conceit.
But in the golden glow of candlelight,
Silent eyes they gaze,
A single star tremors to life,
Dazzles and then fades.
The planets inch their traversed path,
Across a cold night sky,
Silent witness to the silent power
Of a thousand silent eyes.
I turn back to my wooden desk,
The fire slowly dissolves,
And in the candlelight I feel,
A flickering resolve.
The clock it chimes the hour,
I crumple the ink stained sheet,
I toss it past the window,
Into a listless street.
i had finally reach the top of the mountain
i was enjoying my view
the sun shine & the world peaceful at last
the mountain started to crumple
crumpling, crumpling, crumpling
i was falling with it
i wasn't tumbling quickly, it felt like slow motion
i didn't know when i was going to hit rock bottom & start all over again
i didn't know if i was was ever going to be ok ever again
not after this fall from the top
Every man I've tried to love,
shouts back as they trudge away,
"I fucking tried!"
When I'm drunk and heaving
repugnant half- sentences
in a parking lot
too stubborn to
crumple into their suddenly forgiving arms,
they turn around with the same
And I remain staring at the
confetti of conceding
under my feet.
One of our
The wax melting in front of St.Antony
And make new candles.
The tapers of
Thresya whose house got mortgaged, and
Selina whose wedding never got fixed, and
Anthappan who mourned his lack of offspring, and
Thankamma whose chickens died of infectious bronchitis
Stood and liquefied for us in those days.
Math test, pimple,
Death, visa, love,
Lost hundred rupee note,
Why, even missed periods,
Hair graying too early,
All these daily deliquesced for us
Day after day.
What did the new candle
We lighted in those days
We cannot see a thing
In its light now!
i feel very disconnected from myself.
i’m reminded of a hand running through
hair once long now cut short, expecting
what isn’t there to be there. i want a
difference, i want my voice to be a crash
i want to walk like flashes of colored light
in a car where you sit with your head
in your hands in the dark. feel me like a
push, like a fall down the stairs, like
subtraction. i’ll legally change my name
to “sleepless” so you can recognize me
walking into the lot. i’m starting to realize i most
likely won’t see you again and the thought
feels heavy as chains to a paper eclipse.
i can’t think about anybody except when
facing a mirror. i want to bend all of my
fingers back. it doesn’t matter than my
lap was a carseat and my arms were
a seatbelt. i am metal-worth. the sort
you crumple under your palms like a
mumbled curse crumbles under your
breath. “shouldn’t have said that.”
my shoulders fall for my eyes when
they know they should remain contact.
i still sink and think of you when steam
covers his reflection in the rearview.
i don’t like the backseat without you and
your hands in your pockets. i am an
accident. not yours. i’m totaled. drive by.